


Tangled Threads

by Second_Best



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Jumin, Cheese, Fluff, Graphic Lemon, JuminxZen, Juzen, Lemon, Long, M/M, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top Zen, Yaoi, graphic smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 09:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8199193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Second_Best/pseuds/Second_Best
Summary: "You jerk... Why are you singing such a sad song!?" Zen moaned, swiping his knuckles to his eyes.
"Why are you crying?" Came the mildly intrigued query."God, I don't know? Stop staring at me, I'm done..."
Perhaps, it was more than this...Perhaps, Zen was also afraid.Suddenly unsure of his beliefs and his heart, and what would happen to them once morning came.Would he see the same things the dark fed him?Would he feel the same after he took into consideration their careers, their friends, the vast difference of their worlds...Was sharing one thing, one night, enough to survive the harsh scrutiny of everything and everyone else?





	1. Chapter 1

8:45am

-  
-  
-  


It started with a phone call. 

One of three calls on Day 5 that triggered a cataclysmic roll of events the 26-year old bachelor was admittedly unprepared for.

C&R's handsome corporate heir was in his best suit.  
Only, it wasn't paired with his best tie. 

The thought that there was something disrupting the impeccable presentation on his person nagged at him like that misaligned shelf he'd spotted in the engineering department whilst doing the morning inspection rounds.  
The engineering department - Of all places.  
He assumed they would be entirely aware...

Han Jumin's gray gaze rose, eyeing the shifting occupants in the conference room. 

"Good morning."  
A deep, sweeping tone.  
He closed his eyes and crossed his arms.  
"I will allow a five minute adjournment. Do get your presentations in order."  
Flat, emotionless, chased with a sigh that hinted at impatience. 

"Please take your seats."  
The younger woman beside him automatically called out in facilitation. 

The room bustled with shuffles of papers and rolling chairs. 

"Mr. Han,"  
Jaehee held three binders out to him.  
"- the consolidated reports from the Fashion, Electronics and C&R Accounting firm."

The Blackberry in his pants vibrated.  
"Thank you, Assistant Kang." He automatically said. 

It should have been the Salvadore Verragamo geometric tie.  
The Balemtino prints were too bold.  
... God, he hated choosing ties to wear in the morning. 

Jumin's eyebrows pushed together in mild irritation as he thumbed through the first binder's 25-page report.  
A typo on page 12.  
He ejected an audible breath through his nose, delicately pinching the page and giving the corner a little fold. 

The brown haired girl standing next to him slipped him a sideways look before straightening and clearing her throat.  
"Is there something wrong with the report, Mr. Han?"  
"Nothing too unusual." He said. 

The phone in his pants was still vibrating. 

The handsome Executive Director looked up at the 15 department heads sitting on the conference table in front of him. 

"Three minutes left." He informed them before raising a finger at Jaehee and retrieving the buzzing gadget from his pocket. 

He noted the caller's name and distractedly picked up. 

"Hi Jumin..."  
It was the girl.  
The corporate heir lowered his eyes.  
... She really did have such a wonderfully soothing voice.  
Like soft, warm sunshine bathing a grassy knoll.

He allowed two seconds of stuttering. 

"- I'm working. I'll call you later." He finally interrupted.  
Jumin hung up without a second thought and went back to looking at the binder.  
Jaehee was slipping everyone a copy of the meeting's agenda.  
She clopped back to his side and dutifully awaited further instruction. 

A long finger gave a firm tap to one page, and Jumin slid the binder her way.  
"Inform Mr. Sook that I will be needing graphs to accompany these fiscal charts. Incremental data that justifies the investment."  
He gave her an expectant look. 

"Yes, Mr. Han."  
Jaehee's pen flew across her pad in rapid shorthand. 

"Now then, if everyone is ready-"  
Jumin's eyes rose to peruse the line of familiar faces gracing the elongated table.  
"Shall we start with the Financial reports?"

His phone vibrated on cue and he closed his eyes.  
"Mr. Jun?" Jumin's baritone rose.

A man in his late 40's with a receding hairline stood up and opened a folder.  
Jumin slipped the phone from his pocket and held it out to Jaehee without removing his eyes from the Financial Department manager.  
The fellow RFA member took the vibrating gadget and peered at it with a nudge to her eyeglasses. 

"- In terms of shareholder accounts, we are seeing a 0.64% increase over the course of the past two weeks, and a forecast of 5% with the implementation of the new clothing and luxury line by the time the weekend hits, sir."  
The older man pushed his hands in front of him. 

"Note the laundering scandal that has ensued from our competing brand, and reassess the numbers. I am expecting it to rise. Excuse me-"  
Jumin commented off-handedly with a glance to his assistant. 

Jaehee's eyes were glowing.  
He knew that look.  
But he could never be 100% sure, so he asked.  
"Who's calling?"

Something in him knew.  
Her perfectly manicured nails were clutching his phone too tightly.  
"It's Zen." She mouthed with a gleam of honey eyes. 

He plucked the phone from her and glanced at the caller ID.  
The brown haired girl saw his eyelids lower a mere fraction, barely detectable.  
And then Jumin's thumb punched a button, ending the call. 

He looked up at his employees and slipped the phone back into his pocket.  
"... Every department has submitted their monthly financial statements?" He lightly asked. 

Adjoined murmurs erupted in the room coupled with a few grunts and nods. 

"Good." He braced his arms to the table.  
"Please give me a thorough rundown, starting from the Bioenergy and Thermodynamics department."

Jaehee lowered her head and gave a discreet sigh.  
His Blackberry remained motionless the rest of the meeting. 

\---

8:56am

-  
-  
-  


_What the hell, that pompous jerk hung up on me!_  
Zen lowered his phone with a clash of eyebrows. 

"Mr. Ryu Hyun."  
A large bald man in a generic-looking suit remained motionless, save for the curl of his mouth droning the announcement of his real name.  
"Yeah." Zen's gaze flicked to him quickly, "Just give me a second..." 

Honestly, what the hell is that bastard thinking?  
Sending him this bald wrestler in a suit that looked tighter than his jockeys... 

Zen clicked his tongue in annoyance and grabbed the leather jacket from his closet, trying to valiantly ignore the man observing his every move from the apartment doorway. 

Seriously, was this some sort of joke?  
He stuffed a shirt and his wallet into his bag. 

The last thing he needed was Mr. Trust Fund flaunting his resources in front of his face.  
Yeah, Jumin was loaded.  
Yes he had the connections to almost any acting position because of his affiliation with the media.  
On a whim, he could catapult Zen straight to the big top of K-superstardom.  
But really, if this was all for his sick amusement or an attempt to get him to surrender to the high-life, wasn't the guy really overdoing it!? 

He had declined the offer once, and probably a few more times, but did Han Jumin _ever_ listen to what anyone else had to say?  
No!  
"... That stubborn prick." He mumbled, tugging at his hems a little too roughly. 

The theatre actor tucked his phone into one leather pocket and finally raised his vermillion gaze to the bald man in black, barring his exit. 

"So..." Zen warily started.  
Baldy-man straightened in reaction.  
And then another three heads poked out from behind him, in the hallway.  
"There are more of you?" The actor exclaimed.  
One in the middle moved, lifting a white-gloved finger to his earpiece.  
"Alpha, we have him." He discreetly informed into the corded device. 

Zen raised a perfectly-arched flaxen eyebrow.  
"Excuse me?" He asked the earpiece-man. 

"We apologize for the sudden intrusion on your day, Mr. Ryu. We're special security forces, assigned by Mr. Han Jumin to accompany you wherever you go, sir." A younger-looking man with short, cropped hair wearing a similar suit beside earpiece-man disclosed. 

"Special security forces? What, like... bodyguards?" The actor blinked, finally clutching at his door and opening it all the way.  
"Yes, sir!" Youngster-man affirmed with a respectful bow. 

"Sending the van. Note, we are sending the van." The man with the earpiece announced swiftly, giving his comrades a solemn nod from behind his jet-black sunglasses.  
"Wait-... What-" The silver-haired actor stuttered, pulling back.  
"What are we gonna do with a van?!" Came his incredulous rising tone. 

"It's transportation. Please tell us your coordinates, Mr. Ryu?" Baldy-man inquired stiffly.  
Zen's scarlet stare wandered from his face to the other three behind him.  
"Okay, listen. I normally just... take the train..." He calmly explained, thumbing to somewhere invisible over his left shoulder.

Baldy-man didn't look very happy at that.

"It's no big deal." Zen quickly assured him.  
"I'm about to leave for a meeting with a director, and the station is just a five minute walk from this flat so, boys really," He gave a weak laugh and raised a hand.  
"I can just-"  
"That's unnecessary sir. You can travel using the van." Youngster-man quipped from behind with a cheery smile. 

"I-... Uh..." Zen drawled hesitantly. 

"Please come with us." Baldy-man gave a swift nod and stiffly turned around to head back out into the hallway.  
Zen remained rooted before he finally ejected a snort and grabbed his gym bag from the table.  
"This is ridiculous." He muttered, pulling his phone out to dial Jaehee's number. 

\---

9:10am

-  
-  
-  


They were in the middle of discussing a large electronics investment when Jaehee felt the phone in her coat pocket vibrate.  
It buzzed loudly and repeatedly enough for the important man beside her to give a sideways slink of eyes.  
Jaehee gave the corporate heir an apologetic twist of mouth and stepped aside to check her mobile.  


The previous look he'd seen immediately came over the girl with a boy-cut.  
She gave a discreet intake of breath and stifled a smile, quickly and almost guiltily, sending him a glance.  
She was glowing, Jumin observed detachedly.  
Glowing like the pink flamingos his father's 8th girlfriend hammered into their rooftop garden...  
Which he immediately disposed of.  
They were not suited to his aesthetic taste.  


Zen was persistent.  
Perhaps, he could have made for a good salesman or real estate agent if he wasn't in his current line of work...  
A possible sideline job - Yes, he would have to bring it up with the man.  


Jumin's eyebrows lowered in thought as he flipped through the current presentation. 

"- And if I may, sir. A study done by our gadgets research team reports a steady increase in user demand for wireless earphones. If you'll kindly turn your attention to the data."  
The Technical Department's Head lifted his laser pointer to the wall projection. 

"The new iFone Sebun can be purchased with such an option. An inside source states that they've already received several pre-orders of-"

 _Could it be an RFA emergency..._  
The thought suddenly struck him.  
It was mildly interesting that his mind had wandered during such an important meeting. 

_Was Zen in danger?_  
Jumin's hand rose to one sleeve cuff in habit and he worried his thumb and index over the edge of its hem. 

He'd sent those bodyguards to make sure precisely that this wouldn't occur.  
Only... what if something had happened?

His forehead wrinkled at the thought. 

"- thus, if you turn to page 23, I've given a summary of the latest trends and the networks that we can tap into to utilize this particular age bracket and generation, from tweens to young adul-"

"- Excuse me, I must apologize for the interruption." The corporate heir fluidly broke in, turning slightly to Jaehee.  
She blinked owlishly at him, looking like a deer caught in headlights.  
"Assistant Kang," He gently started, "Please take the call outside the conference room. I am allowing you 5 minutes."  
"I... I'm sure it's not that important, Mr. Han..." She assured him softly.  
Jumin gave her a look and everyone fell silent.  
"Please..." He said again, with a drop in his tone.  
"Take the call." 

"... Okay." Jaehee blinked in surprise.  
She seldom heard him talk like that. 

"Then..." She turned to everyone and gave a slight bow, "Please excuse me."

"Do continue." Jumin chased with a barely detectable sigh, turning back to the Technology Department's representative. 

\---

9:11am

-  
-  
-  


The conference door slid shut behind the slim-framed girl and she walked to a shadowed corner at the end of the hall before finally answering her phone. 

"Hello Zen. I'm in the middle of a meeting. Please make it quick." The girl discreetly murmured.  
"That jerk boss of yours..." The irritated voice broke through the fuzz,  
"- suddenly sent me the Men in Black. I feel like an alien, Jaehee. What the hell is going on?"

The girl's shoulders dropped slightly and she closed her eyes with a sigh.  
"Zen, I am very sorry if the arrival of those men surprised you, but please bear with it. I don't think Mr. Han will take no for an answer."  
"See! See?! That's _exactly_ his problem! I-... don't need these guys."  
There was a slight shifting of the phone as Zen's voice drifted away from his device.  
"Sorry, guys, I mean no offense, really - ... Don't take this personally, okay? What I'm about to say... Ah, I'm sure you're all great dudes."  
Another shift as his voice returned loud and clear.  
"They look like they're either gonna beat me up or scare the people at my meeting away! C'mon, Jaehee. What's this for?"

"You know there is a threat to the chatroom and to the party, to the girl and the classified information in Rika's apartment. Mr. Han has sent all of the RFA members bodyguards for protection, except for the new girl. That is all it is. I hope you do not misunderstand..."

"I want to speak with him." Zen evenly said.  
"Mr. Han is currently in a very important meeting with the department heads. But know that he has done this only out of good intention-"  
"- How nice of him!" Came a burst of exaggerated glee from the other end.  
"Zen..." The girl pinched at the bridge of nose under her eyeglasses.  
"Mr. Han paid for this out of his own pocket. He means well."

Silence. 

"... Really." Zen finally answered, almost sincerely caught off-guard.  
"Yes." The girl patiently provided.  
"Out of his own pocket, huh..." He mused.  
"If there isn't anything else, can I-"  
"Jaehee..."  
Something about the way he said her name made her stomach twist into small knots - and it had nothing to do with her inner fangirl.  
"... Yes, Zen?" Came the hesitant reply.  
"... I want ten... No. Twenty more of them. Yes, twenty is good."  
The girl's eyes went wide and she stared disbelievingly out at the marble hallway.  
"What...?" She weakly asked.

"Yeah!" Zen asserted firmly.  
"With all due respect, I think that's a little-"  
"If that's what it takes to get his attention, tell him that." The actor coolly interjected. 

The assistant let out another short sigh, kneading a finger at one temple. 

"Jaehee, I want thirty beefy bodyguards. All heads of security, who look exactly like this bald one, right here... Wait, you get paid the highest, don't you baldy?" 

"Zen."  
"Jaehee, please... Just tell him that. Okay? Give him some outrageous cost computation or something. Do this for me, please. I gotta go."  
A click and the line was dead. 

Jaehee lowered her phone and gave the wall a sullen look. 

\---

10:00am

-  
-  
-  


**> I'm sorry that I can't send you a security team as well.**  
**> I wish I could.**  
**> Anyway, have you eaten?**  


The corporate heir sent the line of text messages to the girl before setting aside his Blackberry. 

The reply was almost immediate.  
A high chime of ding-ding just as he opened an asset inventory file. 

The familiar clack-clacking of heels pattered into his large executive office and Jumin looked up from his stack of folders as a discreet sheet of white danced along his peripheral vision.  
His gray gaze met with a dour, half-lidded stare.

"Mr. Han, please just take it." Came his assistant's tired sigh.  
He wordlessly did with a delicate blink.  
"That's the expenditure breakdown of your hired security." Jaehee dutifully pointed out.  
And then her eyes rose a few meters towards the picture frame above his head before finally lifting to the white ceiling.  
"I... highly suggest you review Zen's entry on the sheet, because I have revised it according to his... most current wishes." Came the stressed tone. 

Jumin's eyebrows lowered at that.  
He raised the sheet and gave it a quick sweep.  
The Executive Director's eyes didn't even flinch seeing the quadrupled amount of staggering eight digit figures in South Korean Won listed under the actor's real name.  
"Is there a particular reason for this." Came the statement, more than a question.  
He raised his eyes from behind the parting of raven locks. 

"Please call him." Assistant Kang finally blurted.

\---

10:15am

-  
-  
-  


The van jostled as an eruption of laughter came from the riding occupants.  
Zen gave Youngster-man a pat on his suited back. 

"Isn't it, I was dragged home! Ah, it's the best. Beer for me. But Souju on a winter night hits the spot just fine."  
He gave another crystal laugh and the bodyguard he now guessed to be the same age as him, gave a beaming smile.  
"What's it like, Mr. Ryu..." The man almost ardently whispered, clasping his hands together over his slacks.  
"What's what like?" Zen raised both eyebrows slowly.  
"Being so handsome!" Youngster-man declared, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
"Don't you have trouble getting around? Don't the ladies and even gentlemen stare?"

"Ah..." Zen's scarlet eyes lowered.  
"That... Of course, you'd ask that." He nodded, entirely morose all of a sudden. 

"Yes. Yes, they do." He gave a sigh and swept long fingers over the silken bangs on his forehead, breaking into a helpless smile.  
"Well, I was born this way, and so since I was little I've encountered this. I think I'd gotten used to all the staring... - "  
His thoughts broke off then, and Zen looked up just as the van pulled to a stop. 

"We're here, Mr. Ryu-" Came a baritone voice from ahead.  
Earpiece-man turned to look at him from the front passenger seat. 

"... I, along with three others will lead you inside. But before that, please wait for further instructions. I will have to inspect the front of the premises for any forms of threat to your person."  
He looked around at everyone, giving a slight nod to nobody in particular. 

Zen gave him a mute stare. 

"... This is crazy." He finally stated in a flat tone.  
"We're just doing our jobs, sir." The other man beside him patiently said.  
"Oh, of course."  
The actor nodded to himself and braced his chin over his knuckles, sending a sulky gaze out the van's heavily-tinted window. 

Han Jumin was such a pain.  
Because of all the ridiculous security checks down the apartment hallway and into the parking lot, they had to stop numerous times.  
And now, he was late for his director meeting.  
... That jerk. 

\---

10:20am

-  
-  
-  


Jumin stared at his phone as the newest intern placed a cup of perfectly-extracted espresso on his desk.

"Thank you." He didn't bother sparing the employee a glance.  
She blushed maddeningly regardless, and mumbled a welcome with a flustered bow. 

Those gray eyes mused over the icons on his device in thought.  
Perhaps, Zen was online...  
The van he'd assigned for each RFA member did have built-in wifi installed in case of emergencies and tracing countermeasures for Luciel's convenience.  
As one of the genius hacker's requests, he'd made sure to fulfil it.  
Without a second thought, Jumin entered the RFA's private server chatroom allotting time for a 10-minute break before tackling the pending priorities on his list.  
He scanned the header for the list of active guests. 

The girl was online.  
So was Assistant Kang.  
Zen was not. 

A ping from Assistant Kang signalled the start of a conversation.  
"Oh, it's Mr. Han." The bubble slid up with a rising whoop.  
"Hello to both of you." Jumin began with a deft tap of fingers.  
"Hey, Jumin! How did the meeting go?" The girl's speech bubble burst in.

His mouth gave a bare lift at the greeting. 

"Fine. Thank you for asking." He typed out, leaning back into his ergonomic leather chair.  
"I was thinking about the cat projects. I'm certain we're making new ground with cheese for cats. I've talked it over with the R&D team, and they are working on a cat-friendly formula."  
He slid a finger over his chat bubble selection and poked at the cat-shaped one.  
The message popped out in a cute blue feline silhouette and he smiled, almost childishly. 

"Mr. Han, I've arranged an overseas meeting for you, by the way." Assistant Kang typed.  
"It's for the new cinematic company C&R is planning to invest in."

"..."  
Jumin frowned as he thumbed the dots.  
He recalled no such meeting.  
A finger added in a **"?"** before poking the 'send' icon.  


"I've already booked your flight for tomorrow." Came Assistant Kang's quick reply.  
"It's complimentary! Isn't that nice? They must really want you there." She added.  
"Who are these people again?" He typed out.  


"Wow, Jumin really has a lot of important people waiting to meet him! Goodluck." The girl chased with a whoop.  


"Yes, I wish him luck as well." Jaehee commented.  
"They're Cinematography Executives and Talent Managers. I've arranged for them to give you a call, Mr. Han. So that you can figure out the details."  
His assistant's speech bubble bumped at the girl's from below. 

"Alright." Jumin typed - more hesitantly this time.  
The man exhaled discreetly and flicked send.  
"I hope the deal goes well." Came the quick pop of an answer from his employee.  
And then Assistant Kang sent a smiling animated sticker of her generated chibi-self with flowers dancing around her head.  
She must truly be wishing him happiness...  


"Thank you." He answered, sincerely.  


After a few short pleasantries being exchanged in the chat room, the new RFA member began talking about Zen's photos and a certain Tripter bot.  
Jumin hit a tab on his Epol's browser and typed it up to search, noting a mere 8 minutes to pass break-time before having to return to business matters on hand.  
He scrolled through explanations of what the bots were, and how they were able to generate automated images for random followers.  
Interesting.  


A crying Yoosung had entered the chatroom and was complaining about LOLOL servers experiencing downtime during his only break from classes, when Jumin's speech bubble erupted from underneath.  
**"Do you think we can use Tripter bots to distribute images of cute cats?"**  
"Great idea, Jumin." Came the girl's immediate reply.  
"I really don't know about that..." His assistant's bubble quickly pushed up.  
Yoosung sent a beady-eyed chibi-self with a forced smile.  
"Seriously. Don't people already do that?" The college student's bubble floated up.  
Jumin frowned. 

5 minutes - His internal clock informed him.  
The young executive director excused himself after more brief pleasantries and finally exited the RFA chatroom, pressing at his list of Contacts.  


Scrolling through endless names and finally tapping on Zen's thumbnail photo, he hit dial and reclined, pressing the gleaming black gadget to his ear.

\---

10:26am

-  
-  
-  


The theatre actor had just stepped off the van when the phone in his pocket began a coasting rhythm and blues jam.  
He extracted it and consulted the caller ID.

Crimson eyes tightened in annoyance upon seeing the flashing name and thumbnail.  
The abrasive look Zen gave off was a gifted intensity that reinforced even more of the actor's handsomeness.  
He blinked sideways as youngster-man stared in awe.  
"I have to take this call, but let's start walking. I'm already kind of late." He gave a cringing smile.  
The silver haired actor and his four bodyguards traversed the gravel parking lot to the swivelling heads of murmuring passers-by.  
Zen answered the call and pressed his Samsung to his ear as the sound of crunching rocks popped from under his boots.  


"It's me." Came the stoic, familiar clip of a greeting.  
"Han Jumin, you bastard, what the hell is this setup." Zen snapped as he unconsciously began an aggressive brisk-walk.  
The bodyguards hastened to keep up.  


"Allow me to ask..." Came the smooth tenor from the other end. "- why you request an additional lineup more than tripling your current security? Is it not sufficient?"  
"Forget that," Zen uttered, rolling his eyes and swinging the strap of his bag higher over one broad shoulder.  
"I just told Jaehee to give you some actual figures to scare you into calling me... Because you're a jerk who _always_ ignores my calls."  
The actor came to a stop at the entrance of the building, gesturing mutely at the bodyguards with a hand to pause.  
He slung his gym bag into the nearest plastic chair before the short stairway.  
"... Scare me. It's ineffective." Jumin sounded almost amused.  
"Dude, I don't need all of this. I'd much rather you send these guys to the girl... I'm worried about her the most!" The younger man exclaimed.  


His eyes distractedly scanned the exposed hallway for signs of the director before he turned all his attention back to the silence on the other line.  
"- Can't you ask Seven for the address and send them there? Who's protecting her?" Zen finally demanded, moving his long silver ponytail to one side.  
"I have tried, and Luciel has refused to divulge any information. Moving on, this is for your safety. But I see you are refusing my help yet again." Jumin answered evenly.  
"Look, if need be, maybe I can just have one if it'll make you happy. And that's enough." Zen unthinkingly said, as a patrolling security guard walked by.  
The man smiled at him and Zen returned one with a brief nod.  


A pause from the line.  
Zen closed his eyes and began pacing along the gravel.  
"Jumin..."  
"... If it will make me happy?" The man's voice quietly asked with a minute trace of static.  
"I mean if it'll get you to back off and out of my business." The actor cuttingly explained, almost bumping into baldy-man.  
"I won't go so far as to say it makes me happy." The voice on the line clarified.  
"But it puts my mind at ease knowing you are safe. I dislike taking risks, even if the threat is at 0.00001%..." Jumin explained in a low tone.  
"... You are important, Zen."  
The silver-haired actor stopped walking then, hearing the way that voice eased out in dulcet layers before it fell with a lingering drop mentioning his name.  
A slight prickle began along the actor's neck before trickling down into his stomach.  
His eyes focused on one of the bodyguard's black suits as he brushed the unexpected foreign feeling aside. 

"I'm safe, okay?"  
His voice had surprisingly stilled in response.  
"Good." Came the monotone exhale.  
"Just, I'm not used to having so many guys follow me around... It's usually the women who are so persistent, and I don't mind bumping into them every once in a while. They probably can't help gravitating to someone so handsome, but these guys... -"  
He sighed, looking out at the trees before pressing the receiver back to his ear.  
"... Look, I appreciate your concern, Jumin. I..." He paused with a skew of his mouth, nudging at a pebble with his boot.  
"I know you mean well, and it's not that I'm not grateful... - "  
He stopped then, suddenly frustrated with himself. 

Why was he taking the time to assure the bastard?  
The man already had whole planets aligning for him, and here he was contributing to a smooth rocket ride.  
Damn it. 

"I do mean well..." The lower voice replied softly, trailing off.  
"Your safety is important. Would you like to have dinner?"  
Zen's insides seized at the abrupt shift in question.  
He squinted, searching the sky, confused.  


"What?" He finally blurted with a clash of eyebrows.  
"Dinner. A well-portioned evening meal." Came the mild response.  
"I know what dinner is, God."  
"To discuss certain matters at hand, have dinner with me. Take the van."  


"Oh, were you asking? Because it really sounds like you're shoving this to my face now."

Zen's ears were growing warm, all of a sudden.  
It must be because the man was pushing all the wrong buttons.  
His face was growing warm, now too.  
And that must be because he was now extremely pissed off. 

The thought finally spurned the small, unexplainable irritation he always seemed to get when in contact with the corporate heir.  
Might as well have been another allergic reaction all together!  
"What's this about?" The actor decidedly asked in a clipped tone.  
"I suggest the matter be discussed over dinner." Came the stoic reply.  
"Damn, it. I'm hanging up." Zen shot back through gritted teeth.  
"Don't be late. I'll text you the details and have the security team arrange the trip accordingly." 

And then the line had gone dead before Zen could even object or end the call. 

The idea that Jumin had managed to control even the length of their conversation caused another flare of annoyance and the actor gave a low grunt before finally sending the bodyguards a glance and deflating with a sigh. 

"Alright, let's go guys. The director must be waiting inside, it's freezing out here." He mumbled.  
"Affirmative. Surround him, quadro-formation." Earpiece-man instructed with a zipping gesture.  
The men immediately snapped into his personal space.  
"Jesus." Zen stiffened as a solid chest pressed into his back.  


Too close.  


\---

10:29am

-  
-  
-  


The young heir sat back in his chair, finishing his cup of coffee and mentally counting down the last minute of his breaktime.

What was it about this unequal treatment Zen had for the RFA members versus him, that seemed so disquieting?  
When the girl, or Jaehee, or Luciel, or even Yoosung offered help in any way, Zen always seemed to take it willingly.  
And yet, with him....  
There was always that wall of cold decline or resistance. 

Han Jumin did not like being refused.  
If he had to describe it, it was troubling.  
No, to be more precise about his emotions, perhaps it was aggravating.  
He felt similar dealing with a fickle-minded stock investor, or that Swiss Banker in the meeting last week who refused to offer anything less than a 100% interest rate for loans.  
Zen was like the Gangnam land-owner, Mrs. Lee, who was stubborn to relinquish her title when he'd offered triple the current market price.  
Ridiculous, she had no use for an empty lot. 

And why was it that despite Zen reminding him of these people, he still wanted to help him when he'd simply dropped everyone else?  
There was no doubt that his unbending loyalties to the RFA, to V and to Rika, was a great motivator in the matter.  
That aside...  
His eyes rose to the expanse of towering corporate buildings outside his office window. 

A sharp, pulsating vibration erupted from his mahogany desk, cutting off any further thoughts on the matter.  
He whisked the phone off the gleaming surface and studied the foreign number displayed on his screen.  


This had better be important, and not another call from a Fortune Top 100 "Most Eligible Bachelors" agent.  


"This is Han Jumin." The heir briefly answered, receiver to ear.  
"Good morning, Mr. Han! Aneyonggggg-haseyoeee." Came a confident, but crooked attempt at Korean.  
He didn't recognize the voice as any of his overseas managers, nor was it a familiar business associate from the international sister companies.  
Jumin had an exceptional memory, and once he heard a voice, he remembered it.  
It was nobody he recognized.  


"Good morning, may I know who is speaking?" The corporate heir responded, shifting from Korean to perfectly accented English to alleviate the communication barrier.

"Oh," The bright voice piped.  
"- This is Director M. Knight Jamalan from DreamShape pictures. I'm calling about the producer's meeting we'll be having with you tomorrow and verifying your arrival?"  
"Ah, yes... Such a privilege to be speaking with you Mr. Jamalan. It's kind of you to call me yourself..." He studied one cufflink in thought.  
"Please do run me by the details of the meeting so that I may prepare myself accordingly." Came the immaculate flow.  
"Of course! Well, let's see, apart from your presence and a brief on-the-spot introduction of C&R International, we will just be discussing the upcoming productions." Mr. Jamalan dutifully narrated.  


"Duly noted."  
Jumin lifted his eyes to the doorway just as Jaehee walked in with another pile of folders.  
"Moving on, I've just been informed that your company will be shouldering the costs of airline travel. How gracious. I will most certainly be there."  
Jaehee lingered, flooding with awareness upon hearing the foreign accent and string of words. 

"Of course, Mr. Han! Oh, I'd like to know if you'll be bringing anyone else with you for the contract discussion? We've actually designated an extra ticket for you, if you have someone in mind..." Came the director's enthusiastic voice, startlingly clear from halfway around the world. 

Jumin's mouth was about to open with the beginnings of a kind decline to the man's offer when Assistant Kang slipped him a pink post-it with a neatly scribbled note written in her penmanship.  
The heir's steely eyes skimmed it briefly. 

**Txt - > Zen: If dinner topic not important. Answer is no.**  


"I see..." Jumin said into the phone.  
He gave his assistant a void look.  
Jaehee gave an apologetic twist of mouth, lifting her shoulders in response before turning to walk away.  
A sound of a discreet exhale from his nose and Jumin had straightened, swivelling his chair to face the glass panes covering the side of his office. 

He would leave no room for the younger man to decline him.  
He would take, kindly, but fiercely. And forcibly if need be, without hurting him.  
Perhaps, immaturity and his obsessiveness for control instigated his next words.  


"... That is quite generous of you, Mr. Jamalan. If you don't mind, I will accept your offer." Jumin raised his eyes to the clear, cloudless sky.  
"There is actually one person I would like for you to meet... An actor."  
Jumin's mouth lifted mildly as he finished.

There was no doubt in his mind Zen could possibly object to an all-expenses paid trip to meet an American director. 

\---  


10:03pm

"No." 

The string symphony ended on cue then, and Jumin gave the man in front of him a sideways narrowing of eyes before crossing his arms.  
"What?" The heir asked in a darker voice.  
"You heard me, I said _No._ "  
Zen's hands curled over the finely-trimmed tablecloth cutting around the atmospheric restaurant's table for two.  
His fingers twisted over the material that bore a possibly higher thread count than all his bed sheets thrown together.  
The corporate heir lifted his eyebrows, genuinely surprised before lowering his wineglass to face him entirely. 

"Why?" He finally asked. 

"Jumin, is this why I'm here? So you can offer me another opportunity with one of your impressive connections?" The handsome actor's jaw clenched.  
"In case you'd forgotten my encounter with Saudi Arabia's UN representative two years ago, let me just remind you. I don't speak english. At all. What were you thinking?!"  
The theatre actor tossed his arms up in disbelief, giving the man in front of him an openly bewildered look.

"I happen to be proficiently schooled in business english, it will not be a problem-" The corporate heir began.  
"That's not the point!" Zen declared, before reeling his emotions in with a frustrated exhale and glancing around.  
"Jumin," He calmly began after a slow intake of breath.  
"Yes, Zen." The heir provided just as placidly.  
"If I do accept this, how am I gonna star in any kind of english film or production... _if I can't speak english?!_ " Zen sarcastically hissed then, sliding forward with a narrowing of scarlet eyes.  
"... I am fairly certain I can get you a language coach, and you are fully-capable of memorizing your lines..." Jumin closed his eyes.  
The silver-haired actor slumped back into his seat, blinking with disbelief at the man's simple, one-track mind.  
And then he crossed his arms with a haughty glare.  
"Jesus." He muttered bitterly. 

Jumin gave a mechanical blink, clearly unfazed. 

"Why are you doing this?" The silver-haired man finally asked in a deceptively mild tone.  
"Your steak is growing cold. I suggest you eat it while it's in prime condition." Jumin advised, ignoring the question with a perfectly delicate incision into his sirloin.  
"Why do you go so far for me?" Zen asked again with a slightly hardened voice, refusing to budge. 

The corporate heir gave him a look and then directed his gaze down to the man's plate to reiterate his point. 

"Is it to annoy the hell out of me?" Zen equally ignored the gesture, refusing to relent.  
"Because, I gotta admit, Mr. Trust Fund, you're a pro at that!" The actor announced, giving an exaggerated show of being impressed.  
Jumin looked at him apathetically.  
"Yeah, you got me." Zen clapped and nodded for him. "Woohoo."

"It's not that, Zen." The raven-haired man murmured, narrowing his gray eyes.  
"Is it because you want to show me the importance of money, and how dreams don't succeed unless you throw it in someone's face?" The actor finally said, expression slipping into seriousness.  
Jumin momentarily thumbed at his cuff and straightened.  
"I'll admit that's true, but no-"  
"- I've made my way just fine without your intervention or money..." Zen whispered, eyeing him.  
"Because of my own headstrong decisions, I am where I am. I think I'm doing okay, thanks." 

"It will be much simpler, and easier if you come along on this trip..." Jumin continued, unfazed.  
"I'm doing this for your own succe-"  
"- You don't understand anything, Jumin." The actor impatiently interrupted, closing his eyes.  
"I assure you, I understand a great many things." Jumin interjected with a frown, forking at the medium-cooked slice.  
"Well, jerk, you sure as hell don't understand me." Came the tired statement as Zen pushed back into his chair with a flat stare. 

Silence from the C&R Executive Director.  
His gray eyes remained on his plate, seemingly searching the string beans and truffle mashed potatoes for a hidden answer.  
That detached gaze finally rose to meet with a stony crimson stare. 

He knew enough about business dinners with clients, and they've never shown as much starkly obvious opposition as the man sitting in front of him.  
_Why._ The nagging question wormed into the tangled threads constituting his pent-up thoughts.  
Perhaps, he needed to re-evaluate his approach.  
If Zen thought he understood nothing, then he would simply play along with that.  


"What if I want to." The corporate heir mildly said.  
He observed the slight lowering of his companion's shoulders.  
Zen gave a few blinks before his eyebrows stitched together, struggling to comprehend the young executive.  
"What do you mean?" He asked, sincerely baffled.  
"What if I want to understand?" Jumin asked again, setting down his knife and giving his full attention to Zen.  
"Understand..." The actor trailed off, waiting for Jumin to fill in the implied blank.  


"... You." Jumin murmured the answer. 

Zen raised an eyebrow as the raven haired man in front of him folded his hands, slipping the intertwining fingers under his chin.  
"I have given this matter thought, and it bothers me. Why you refuse my help..." His eyes studied Zen's hesitant ones.  
"Could it be because you feel I don't consider you, and by extension, your emotions... important?" The voice lifted gently.  
"Well... You don't. And it's not just me, everyone thinks so." Zen slowly said, withdrawing.  
The corporate heir stared at him wordlessly.  
"Explain." He finally instructed in a quiet timbre.

"For starters, you don't listen. You disregard the decisions of other people..."  
Zen's crimson gaze lowered to his steak as he finally cut into it as he talked.  
"Everyone has their own freedom and right to walk their own paths independently. And they can choose however they want to live. You should respect that."  
The actor sent him a brief look.  
A slice of steak was hovering over Jumin's parted lips as he appeared to intently listen.  


"Anything else?" The heir slowly asked.  


"Yeah! Just because you don't agree with how a person lives or decides, it doesn't mean they're doing it wrong. So lastly..." Zen forked a particularly large slice into his mouth and chewed in thought as his scarlet gaze studied the gold beams on the lounge ceiling.  
Jumin watched a slivering trickle of juice disappear into the parted seams of the actor's mouth.  
"Mm!" Zen finally stabbed his fork at the air with emphasis.  
"- Stop trying to control other people."  
He pushed the words past his full cheeks with a sharp nod at the executive.  


Jumin's mouth tugged low at one end and his eyes slid down again to study Zen's constant chewing.  
"Beg your pardon, Mr. Han." Came the interruption from beside them.  
"Yes, what is it?" The raven-haired man removed his stare from those grease-coated lips and looked up at the maître d'.  
"The kitchen is closing in 30 minutes and we would like to ask if you have any last orders?"  
The older man with a neatly trimmed salt and pepper mustache regarded both men with beady eyes.  
"I would like to keep the restaurant open for the next two hours. I will answer for your overtime pay." Jumin unthinkingly said, directing his eyes back to Zen. 

The actor's face crumbled, almost comically.  
"God! Just- ... No, Jumin." Crimson eyes squeezed shut in frustration.  
"See, that's what I mean, you jerk. Have empathy for other people!"  
The head waiter's eyes widened slightly at the flippant name-calling, though he remained ramrod-straight and admirably professional hearing someone berating the Chairman's successor.  
"I am being entirely empathic by paying for the extra hours." Jumin reasoned, slipping a neat cluster of string-beans elegantly into his mouth.  
"... Send them home. On time." Zen leaned forward with fervent insistence.  
"C'mon," He waved his napkin at Jumin before dabbing it to his lips.  
"- these employees have families to make time for, they have to get adequate sleep. You need to _care_ that these people have their own lives, and sometimes at your own inconvenience you gotta conform to normal working hours. And don't even think about money as compensation in exchange for their comfort. Some things are greater than money."

The corporate heir studied him for a moment, completely silent.  
And then he gave a sideways slink of gray eyes at the head waiter, and tilted with a small nod.  
"I suspect you heard my companion. Expect us to vacate in half an hour." Came the murmur.  
"As... you wish, sir...." The wizened maître d' uneasily answered, caught off guard at the conflicting treatment.  
And then he gave a slight bow and after a brief waver, finally walked away from the table. 

The corporate heir watched the man disappear into the kitchen double doors before turning significantly back to Zen.  
"As you wish." Jumin repeated, looking his surprised companion over.  
Zen blinked, pressing into his chair with a small clattering of his utensils and a dumbfounded stare.  
His throat tightened when the corporate heir's mouth softened into a ghost of a smile. 

"W-ell..." Came his disjointed response.  
He stared at Jumin in momentary loss.  
"I understand how it can be beneficial." The gray-eyed man provided, closing his teeth over a mound of mashed potatoes.  
At that, the actor broke into a heart-shatteringly attractive grin that lent a newfound touch of warmth to his scarlet beams of eyes.  
"Great." The actor commented, grabbing his utensils enthusiastically and attacking the meal.  
It wasn't a bad expression at all, that, the corporate heir observed.  
Charming.  


In fact, it rather pleased him to elicit such a response from the man.  
It felt good to earn approval this way.  


At this discovery, something in Jumin's chest shifted slightly.  
In allowing Zen to control a specific situation, it had delighted him.  
That delight had revived a semblance of trust and acceptance.  
Zen's affirmation... His approval made him feel...-  
A slight warmth settled over his face and he began obsessively thumbing at his cuff again, lost in more tangled threads of thought.  
"Guess you _do_ listen every now and then!" Zen mused, breaking the silence with another dazzlingly bright smile. 

"Of course." The raven-haired man found himself saying, before the hodgepodge of internal churning forced him to close his eyes.  
Perhaps the steak was disagreeing with him?  
Though, this feeling wasn't unpleasant at all.  
... Something did want to expel from his person, he could feel it squeezing at his chest and throat. 

"That's a great start." The actor encouragingly said, looking the man over with slow interest.  
Jumin gave him an almost reluctant glance before his gray eyes wandered towards the exit.  
"Then..." The heir slowly started, "-might I request something else?"  
"Mm?" Zen gave an off-handed bite of sound as he chewed. 

"I'd like to... No...-" Jumin expelled a sharp breath, trying to rephrase his question.  
" _Can_ we continue this discussion in my penthouse?" He finally finished.

The expression on Zen's face grew slack hearing the question.  
He lowered his fork and knife.  
"... Uh, I don't think that's-" The man ventured, shifting.  
"Your cat allergies, I know." Jumin eloquently cut in with a slight widening of eyes.  
"I have an extra room, a patio with a foyer, a lounge area. Elizabeth the 3rd does not wander those places."  
Zen's flaxen eyebrows lowered uncertainly as he listened.  
"The maid comes every morning, after I leave for work, to vacuum those particular areas... as well as everywhere else, I suppose." He continued.  


"Jumin..." Zen gave a breath of a wary laugh.  


"A bar with a private smoking section." The young heir finally said, expecting the man to cave.  
Zen winced and looked to the side, "It's a little late for that don't you think? And, it really does a number on my skin..."  
"Indulge me." The executive suddenly said, refusing to let go of the matter.  
"Indulge... you...?" The actor's voice rose slightly.  
"A formality. What I really want to say is - I want to learn more about you." That low voice dwindled to a discreet lull.  
The man's eyes fastened relentlessly on the actor.  
"What exactly are you planning to know?" Zen slowly questioned, shifting under the stare.  
"Whatever it is you have to tell me..." Jumin answered without hesitation, lifting his face.  
"You say I don't listen... Well, now, I will. If you tell me your thoughts, your grievances, your feelings..."  
His dulcet tone descended to a bare breath, low and almost inaudible.  
"I will take it all... without question."  


Zen's chest tightened strangely, seeing the man's unwavering gray gaze finally drop to his glass, relinquishing the visual hold on him.  
"I don't really know what to answer right now..." The younger man began with blunt honesty.  
"... I can wait." Jumin murmured, swirling his red wine.  
The rest of Zen's words decidedly left and he slowly closed his mouth. 

Something changed in the air between them then.  


Zen had always been especially sensitive to such things.  
A veil of silence, not entirely awkward, fell over the table.  
It was somewhat... intimate, if there was any way he could really put it into words.  
A private moment - the type you could remember for years.  
The kind of memory that constantly came back during idle times; complete with the sights, sounds and scents eternally preserved.  
Zen had never, in any other instance, been so non-confrontational with the man.  
He could say this was the first time they were enjoying a conversation simply for what it was without passive-aggressive intent.  
(Admittedly, most of which was his doing.)  


And then Zen realized something else.  
Jumin had never, in all the years he'd known him, waited so patiently for a complete response without intervening. 

Something had definitely changed... 

The scarlet gaze flicked up to study the man more thoroughly as he pinched the stem of his wineglass.  
The very picture of debonair breeding, now leisurely sipping at his drink while holding all the confidence of the billionaire he truly was.  
Only, the moment Jumin's eyes met his, he oddly broke the contact - Almost too abruptly looking down at his plate.  
_Huh. Weird._  
Zen thought.  


"We have 10 minutes..." The executive quietly said, alleviating the deafening pause.  
The man's internal clock was accurate as ever.  


For a moment longer, Zen continued to watch him.  
And then Jumin's broad shoulders lowered, breaking the composure of the conglomerate tycoon facade he always seemed to generate.  
A slim finger worked to tug gently at that impeccable tie, making it slightly crooked and angled to one side.  
He didn't realize how nice Jumin's hands were, really, but that wasn't the point here.  
Zen finally arched an eyebrow when the man undid the first button on his dress shirt - the one closest to his neck that held the collar together.  
A gesture that seemed to affect Zen even more than he allowed to think.  
To be honest, he'd never seen Jumin loosen a tie in public before.  


"Is something wrong?" Zen finally gave in with the question, the nagging persistence now chewing at him.  


The man expelled a breath through slim nostrils and leaned forward, finally giving the silver-haired companion a somewhat tired look.  
"I say this only so you know... I would have approved your request for more security if you'd simply confirmed you needed it."  
Zen allowed a small pause and then collapsed backwards with a sigh.  
"Yeah, I know..." He mumbled. 

In the yellow glow, Jumin looked almost... dejected.  
Zen's chest gave an unexpectedly small squeeze seeing the vulnerable expression. 

And then another thought began to form, only because he was so staggeringly intuitive...  
... Was Mr. Trust Fund lonely?  
Zen's eyes searched the man's unwinding form.  
To some extent, he had to be, right?  
Being so drawn to that damn furball, even going so far as to designate certain human qualities to it.  
He was almost delusional, come to think of it.  
The man's relationship with his cat, apart from the fact it was borderline disturbing, could be a thinly-veiled cry for real human companionship.  
. . . Didn't they say that the loneliest people were the ones sitting on top?

Did he just... maybe, need a friend? Was Jumin just too proud or oblivious to really know it?  
Zen's gaze unconsciously softened before he cast a mute look at his own plate.  
Ah, damn, he was just too nice.  
God really must have made a mistake - Attractive _and_ nice?  
He gave an internal sigh.  
This was just too much.  


"... Alright, Jumin." Came the actor's decided reply.  
The raven-haired man slowly looked up.  
"Yeah, let's hit the penthouse." Zen sighed, trying to ignore the creeping itch already tingling at his nose. 

\---

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> This game has taken over my life and my time, and possibly, at this rate - my soul.  
> It's happening. 
> 
> Primarily, I wrote this for a friend.  
> I'm not the biggest fan of the pairing, but I love both characters and hope I justify them well. 
> 
> If you're playing Mystic Messenger, I know your feels.  
> If you haven't tried it, maybe give it a go! (Though, I'm surprised you're here!)  
> If you don't want to, that's also absolutely fine! (Again, surprised you're here!)
> 
> Otherwise, if you like the story, a Kudos is always appreciated.  
> A comment even more so! 
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)  
> Graphic Lemon warning will come up once the next chapter is done.
> 
> See you in the next update. 
> 
> \- Second_Best


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not a light read.  
> Unfortunately, I don't know how to write any other way.  
> -
> 
> Warning: GRAPHIC LEMON /// which might be distasteful to some.  
> Please be warned.
> 
> -  
> If there are typos and bad grammatical statements, I apologize.  
> -  
> Otherwise, please enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> In this fanfic, Zen has a scar near his hip.  
> Let's be realistic, motorcycle accident that almost gets you killed?  
> You'd bear a scar or two.  
> Jumin doesn't ask about it, but I assume he came to the conclusion. 
> 
> \--  
> PS:  
> I tried, and I couldn't cram everything in 2 parts.  
> This second chapter will be a snooze fest if I did that. 
> 
> So yes, another - very significant - part coming in.  
> Sorry for the wait.

10:55pm  
-  
-  
-

"Thank you for the meal." 

Zen pulled his leather jacket from the chair and shrugged it on as he nodded to the 5-star chefs behind the transparent glass of the kitchen. 

A passing waitress carrying a tray gave him a flustered bow.  
"Thanks for the hard work!"  
The actor loudly acknowledged as he mirrored the respectful gesture - Coupled with a lethal smile that could cripple anyone. 

There was an immediate reaction as the woman pressed a hand to one flaming cheek and ducked away with a wobble.  
Zen's eyebrows furrowed with concern.  
_... God, I hope she's okay._

"I believe that to be unprofessional behavior." The corporate heir murmured in observation.  
He straightened his coat and stood next to Zen, watching the swaying employee's back.  
The heir's hands slipped into the pockets of his business pants and he considered the fellow RFA member.  
"I should ask Assistant Kang to pull up her file and speak with the manager... What do you think?"  
Jumin was genuinely curious to hear another one of his opinions.  
The actor's eyes bugged as he swiveled to the taller man.  


"Wha- ... No! Give her a break. Sometimes women just can't help reacting that way when they see me, alright?"  
"... Alright." The executive repeated, mentally letting the incident go.  
The actor sighed, carefully extracting his long silver ponytail from the back of his jacket before pulling it sideways over one shoulder.

"It's not her fault. It's mine... I'm just that handsome. I should have brought a facemask." He gravely explained.

In fact, it was a relief she didn't drop to the ground because of him.  
He closed his eyes and whispered a sincere prayer of thanks to the gods that be.  
To be honest, he didn't know if it was really possible, but the last thing he needed was any woman actually dying from his looks.  
... His conscience just wouldn't be able to take it. 

"Hmm." Came the non-committal sound from Jumin as he moved away.  
Zen chased his form with a flat look.  
The jerk was the epitome of a snub as per usual.  
Closing his eyes to the common-folk staff as he slipped his platinum card into the velvet bill jacket and handed it to the nearest waiter without so much as a glance.

Damn, he could be so annoying doing the simplest things.  
Zen chewed aggressively at his inner cheek as his scarlet eyes roved the expanse of broad shoulders through that perfect tailored coat, the twin rise of shoulder blades against the silken material as he turned...  


Zen tore his eyes away.  
What the hell did they put in that steak, enough that it screwed him up so he agreed to this?

-

A bodyguard he didn't recognize slipped into the restaurant then, disrupting his thoughts.  
Zen straightened.  


"Mr. Ryu, Mr. Han."

The statuesque man called out, giving the actor a nod before turning to his boss.  
Zen watched him lean towards Jumin's ear, divulging a quiet string of utterances.  
A few nods and more muffled words, and the corporate heir was pulling away with an expression of utter distaste.  


"Tell my father, no." He blatantly said.  
"Regrettably, I have a flight in the morning and am unable to meet with Ms. Glam Choi."  


Zen's eyes widened at the mention of the famous actress who'd become a recent household name.  
He looked away with a twist of mouth, pondering the purpose of such a meeting.  
Not like it was really any of his business...  
But was _the_ Glam Choi actually interested in Han Jumin?  
Wasn't she almost twice his age?  
He felt something ugly give his esophagus a sharp tug.  


And then the waiter was handing back the man's credit card and a receipt.  
He gave his young boss a reverent bow - Which went unacknowledged.  
As usual.  
At a signaled glance from the corporate heir they all walked out of the establishment with Zen studying the ornamented entryway, wondering for the umpteenth time why he was there, and how exactly Jumin had managed - in his cunningly annoying way - to convince him.

-

"If I even see a glimpse of Marie Antoinette the 5th, I'm walking out of this building, got it?"  
Scarlet eyes swept over the slightly taller man for confirmation.  
The heir took his time smoothing long fingers over that ridiculously expensive cashmere suit.  
"It's Elizabeth the 3rd." He finally responded with a dignified lift.  
Even the way he pronounced his pet's name was melodiously eloquent.  
The man could probably say 'I lick armpits on Sundays' and it would sound like poetic seduction.  
If Zen concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear it. 

_Wait, what?_  
The actor's eyebrows shot up.  
_Since when did he ever pay that sort of attention to the bastard's voice and pronunciation?_

"- And there is no such person in historical context as Marie Antoinette the 5th. There was only ever one."  
Jumin's sharp features lifted, casting the actor an actual glare.  
"It's Elizabeth the 3rd - A name suited to a Being of Perfection. How could you manage not to remember something so simple."  
A surprisingly brusque tone.  
Well - well, he might've actually pushed a bad button on Mr. Trust Fund.  
... Why did getting a reaction make him so sickly happy?

Zen felt his familiar former person click back into place, and he considered the man coolly.  
As it was, Jumin was showcasing more of an emotional response now than during any of the other times he'd called the jerk a variety of colorful offensive namesakes.

Zen's arsenal boasted of a few:  
_Asshole, Bastard, Prick, Shithead..._  
(Those were his choice picks.)  


If he had a mother like Yoosung's, she'd be forcing him to make soap _and_ washing his mouth out with it.  
Fortunately, his own mother couldn't give two shits about anything he ever said or did nowadays.

Did any of those insults ever put a chink in Jumin's armor?  
God, no.  
He was more insulted for the damn cat than for himself!  
This sickness of his was on an entirely different level.  
... And Zen couldn't help picking at it. 

"Elly-Cat. Furball. Whatever." Came the dismissive remark.  
His nose gave a twitching itch in response.  
Just the 'C' in that word...  
He nudged at his nose, feeling the beginnings of a sneeze. 

"E-li-za-beth-the-3rd." The corporate heir forcibly emphasized each syllable.  
And it was spoken with such childish haughtiness that Zen almost wanted to laugh.  
"... Acknowledge her with respect. A beautiful woman needs at least that."

The actor pulled away with a snort.  
"'Beautiful woman,' seriously?" He wryly responded.  
"... You need professional help."  
"I've been evaluated by my physician to be in perfect health." The executive stated, just as easily putting a stopper on his earlier flare of irritation. 

And that was that.  
Han Jumin's Boiler Room had an on/off switch.  
How he managed to shut down emotions like that was beyond him. 

"I'm not kidding about the cat..." Zen reiterated with more seriousness, studying the marble pillars on the upper ground floor.  
"I know it's probably not gonna affect the quality of selfies I take for the Tripter bot. Jaehee says they always turn out great. But the idea I'll have a swollen face tomorrow just bothers the hell out of me, personally."

The actor stopped talking because a gloved hand was holding a paper bag filled with thermal plastic containers in front of him.  
He looked up at the Head Waiter from earlier.  
"Your takeout, sir. Though, as I mentioned, I highly advice against this as Wagyu beef does not hold well with repeated heating..."  
The maître d' gave the corporate heir a quick glance of discomfort before looking back to Zen. 

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure I can dice it up to mix with some fried-rice!"  
The younger man took the bag with a small smile.  
"Thank you."  
"Perhaps..." Jumin broke in with renewed interest, "I should try something cooked with that method."  
"Grade-A commoner food cooked by Michelin Star chefs. You should." Zen humored him dryly. 

And just as the actor finished that statement, his phone began the trippy swing of rhythm and blues that told him someone from the RFA was calling.  
"Oh." The actor unthinkingly gave a pat at his jacket pocket.  
Jumin sent the silver-haired man a glance before slowly raising a hand at the four bodyguards beginning to approach them.  


"It's the girl!" Came Zen's enthusiastic exclamation.  
The corporate heir watched his exquisite combination of features light up like a Christmas Tree.

"I'm taking this, give me a second." He briskly slunk to the side.  
Jumin crossed his arms and observed the man pressing the phone to his ear. 

-

"Hey, it's you!" Zen greeted with a warm smile.  
"Mm... - It's a little late isn't it? ... Having trouble sleeping?"  
That velvet voice rose with a twinge of sympathy.  


Zen clicked his tongue and sighed.  
"With everything that's been happening lately, I'm really worried about you!"  


The heir was close enough that he heard the girl's melodious bubble as she said something marginally short and soothing.  
"... Oh, is that so?" The man grinned in response.  
"Then let me guess why you can't fall asleep! Hmm..."  
Zen's eyes snagged on Jumin's before the heir had the chance to look away.  


"Is it because... you're thinking of me?"  
A teasing murmur that fell between them.  
"Mm?" A soft laugh.  
"I hope... you're only thinking of me."  
And then that scarlet gaze had wandered up to the hanging fixtures above, leaving Jumin with nothing but an oddly shaken, breathless feeling.  
Something was lodged in his throat.  
As far as he could tell, it was not steak.  
He pushed the dryness down with a bare swallow.  
And suddenly, it seemed like Zen's continual whisper was the only sound in the lobby as the acoustic melody playing on overhead speakers trickled into a bare drumline and ended. 

Jumin closed his eyes and turned away, redirecting his attention to the special security unit as his stomach gave an unfamiliar twist.  
"Mr. Han."  
The Head of Security dutifully greeted, stepping forward with a slight tilt of a nod.  
"Thank you for your services..." Jumin's void stare was back, lifting sharply as he spoke.  
And then he found himself saying something entirely unexpected.  


"... You have permission to leave for the night." 

The beefy man could only blink in surprise as the heir's composure shifted and he began running a finger over the circumference of one cuff.  
"Please ensure you submit your timecards to the front desk, and turn in any and all expenditure receipts for Assistant Kang's accounting records. I would also like a full report on the logbook stating the exact locations you've visited."

The bodyguard wavered.  
"Noted on that, sir..." 

"You seem troubled. Do you have any questions?" He mildly ventured. 

"Mr. Han," He looked at the heir.  
"Are we to disregard previous instructions to bring Mr. Ryu back to his apartment?" 

Jumin sent Zen a glance.  


The man appeared to be enjoying himself now...  
A little too much, judging from the animated, almost comical gestures he was initiating for the girl.  
Then surely he wouldn't object to staying much longer than they'd both anticipated?  
Yes, one full night was sufficient to disburse all that excitement.

The thought of spending an enriching evening with Zen's presence...  
Listening to the man's colorful opinions...  
Getting nothing but honesty - however scalding.  
It was refreshing.  
And Jumin realized that precisely because they had such different views, he was now painfully curious...  
What pleased Zen?  
How could he capture that elusive affirmation?  
More. He wanted more. 

Something large and significant was straining to burst from the confines of his mind.  
A tiny dam he barely acknowledged, beginning to leak with a spew of tangles.  
Emotions he compulsively wanted to sort...  
Feelings he now struggled to control. 

Jumin returned his attention to the bodyguard. 

"... Yes." He finally decided.  
"Disregard previous instructions. Both his and mine. He will be staying the night."  
Jumin straightened to his full height and crossed his arms. 

"Yes sir." The man obediently confirmed. 

Jumin quickly justified all the reasons why his answer was completely relevant.  
Bulletpoints inserted into a mental list that he would calmly run by Zen once he saw fit.

> Zen appeared to be enjoying himself.  
> It was much too late to be travelling anyway.  
> He had a great many spare rooms for the man.  
> He had bathtubs when Zen possibly only had a shower, and it was good to enjoy these things at least once. (Preferably with scented candles and a glass of finely-aged wine.)  
> There was still a 26% chance the man would agree to the flight tomorrow morning.  
> Should he give in and raid the bar, he'd certainly be in no condition to ride an elevator at the chance of defiling its floors with vomit...

... No, perhaps that last one was a bit too much.  
Jumin's eyebrows pressed together in thought. 

Clothes...  
No matter, he would discreetly see to it.  
He had closets filled with sponsored designer brands, steam-cleaned and unworn.  


And should Zen have anything to say about his decision, he would deal with his mood personally.  
For all the flaming intensity the actor wielded, Jumin had an equal amount of placid calm.  
They were polar opposites in that respect, which was an interesting thing to note.  
Thrown into an equation, their natures either cancelled out or balanced perfectly.  
His mind perceived no complications. 

"That will be all." The corporate heir turned to the other three men in suits.  
"Thank you." He finished, signaling closure with a pull to his sleeve.  
They gave their respective bows and the bald one relayed the new instructions to the rest. 

The security unit swiftly exited the premises.  
... And Zen's radiant smile was now coming towards him.  
"She called me 'lovely Zen'..." Came the passionate sigh. 

Jumin met the bright eyes with a hollow blink. 

\---

11:15pm  
-  
-  
-

"Jumin..."  
"Yes, Zen."

"... I think she likes me." 

The corporate heir gave his companion a void stare as they rode the elevator to the prime suites.  


"... I wouldn't be so certain of that. You're not the only one she calls." Jumin finally said.  


Zen snorted and crossed his arms to the clink of jacket zippers.  
"What do you mean? What woman wouldn't like me."  
Those scarlet eyes widened, looking the taller man over.  
"... With a face like this?"  
He drew an invisible frame around his head with a finger.  
Jumin raised his eyebrows in response, saying nothing. 

"It's just... she always comments on my looks. So I'm kind of suspecting it." The actor explained with genuine amusement.  
"I sent her a selfie. Just a quick snap before bed. You know what she said?"  
"I'm not interested to know."  
"Ya, she said..."  
The actor paused dramatically.  


" _'OMG - !!! So handsome, I'm melting. Ohhhhh... My Zenny!'_ "  
A high-pitched squeak as his face puckered with feeling.  
The executive director's mouth curled, watching him.

"Exactly like that..." Zen said, giving his companion a contented look.  
"I'm so glad she joined the RFA. The girl is just too _cute_!"  
One hand pinched at the air.  
"Cute...?" Jumin echoed as he gave the animated man a fixed look.  
"... We haven't even seen the girl." 

"Seven says she's cute." The silver-haired man insisted.  
"... She has a pleasant voice." The heir provided.  
"Right?" Zen's eyes filled with warmth.  
"I happen to be a good judge of voices, and I can already tell she's cute!"  
"Okay."

Zen crossed his ankles and leaned against the polished railing of the elevator.  
"If she called you, I already know how that went..."  


The corporate heir watched a smirk come over the actor's mouth.  
"Don't..." Jumin wavered.  


"... 'Hi Juminnnn, how's work?" Zen's ridiculous falsetto tinkled on a high-note.  
"I just wanted to say... --- Oh-!" The actor peeped, clapping a palm to one cheek.  
"You hung up.'" 

"... I was busy." The executive deadpanned, eyes narrowing to look at the digital display of climbing numbers.  
"Oh my god, I knew it!"  
Zen unleashed a crystal laugh and Jumin felt his face uncontrollably begin to redden. 

-

The elevator dinged with a voice-automated announcement that they'd reached the penthouse.  
The two RFA members stepped out and gave the first pair of security guards outside the doors brief nods.

"Welcome home, Sir."  
"... Where is Elizabeth the 3rd?" Jumin inquired, giving the spiky-haired man who greeted him a look.

"She remains in your room, Mr. Han." He answered, eyes flitting to the impossibly handsome man lingering beside his boss.  
"The head of security for the night shift is currently observing her through the pet cams we've installed in her play area."  
Zen sniffed and unconsciously began thumbing at his nose. 

"Good. Do report any odd behavior and ensure Elizabeth the 3rd is adjusting to her new salmon diet."  
Jumin had barely finished the statement when he waved a finger forward, forcing Zen to follow down the large carpeted hallway. 

"That furball eats better than I do." The actor commented with a quirk of his mouth.  
"She probably gets actual breaded fish, while I just literally can only afford ... fish-shaped bread."  
He whipped his phone out with a snort and glanced at the large touch-screen, checking for messages as they traversed the bulletproof glass passage. 

It was as good a time as any, Jumin thought, to disclose the change in plans.  
With that in mind, he took the opportunity to prey on Zen's generally good mood.

"I've sent your bodyguards home." The man casually stated.  
"Oh, good..." Zen distractedly said with a nudge of eyebrows while his eyes remained glued to the glowing screen of his device.  
He scrutinized the wifi networks available for use and tapped on 'C&R PentH - Private.'  
"It's pretty late. And they'll need their rest if they wanna fend off the women who cling to me." Came the partial joke.  
The loading bar on his device disappeared and Zen accessed his inbox.  
He tapped at a new message.  
\--  
From Yoosung:  
**> I feel like a superstar surrounded by so many of these bodyguards!!! B-) How are things on your end?**  
\--

Zen's crimson eyes crinkled into beams and he sent a quick response:

\--  
From You:  
**> Could barely move in the van. Soon, you'll have the girls falling at your feet! Treat them well. ;-)b**  
\--

He slipped his Samsung back into his leather breast pocket.  
"I'm glad you're fine with this arrangement." Jumin seemed slightly surprised.  
He led the way through a larger hall overlooking a breathtaking skyline view.  
Zen coasted to a slow gait, absorbing the twinkling lights over towering structures and the bright shine of hundreds of flowing vehicles, all against the backdrop of a cloudless moonlit sky...  
Mr. Trust Fund saw this kind of view every night from his bedroom?  
Who wouldn't be jealous.

They approached another pair of men in suits stationed at the end of the hall.  
Both bowed their greetings and discreetly radioed visual confirmation as the heir came to a stop between them.  
Jumin tapped a code over the security lock's digital keypad and the thick ebony door unlatched with a two-tone bleep.  
Zen had two seconds to admire the intricate carvings chiseled into the wood before Jumin pushed the door open and held it for him. 

"Welcome to my home."  
He gave a generous smile then, one that surprisingly touched the corners of his eyes and softened his overall rigidity.  
A smile Zen realized he only ever saw when the man was speaking to V.  
The actor fixed him with an odd look before finally walking in. 

"I will leave it up to you to decide wherever it is you choose to reside." Jumin said.  
_'Reside.' That was a funny, almost frighteningly permanent way to put it._ Zen thought.  
The jerk made it sound like he was gonna be living here.

"Great," He brightly announced, brushing aside the peculiarity and charging it to Jumin's more elitist upbringing.  
He _did_ have a tendency to phrase things like an old man.  
"I choose the place with the most comfortable seats. Maybe your private lounge?"  
"If that's what you want."  
"And of course I'm fine with you sending your employees home. Knowing how you are, they're pro... bably... -"  
The voice dwindled, followed by a slow intake of breath.  
Jumin cast him a look.  
Zen was staring at the impossibly robust chandelier greeting them at the landing.  
It was bursting with Swolkovski crystals.  
He approached it, craning his neck in awe, eyes round as saucers.  
The pumpkin-looking bloom of silver bulbs sparkled so impossible bright it was practically a security measure all on its own...  
It most likely blinded anyone who entered with its radiant glory.

"God..." He breathed.  
"Are those real? I mean hand-cut?"  
"Yes." Jumin answered off-handedly, "You were saying?"  
A tempered touch nudged him forward and Zen was only vaguely aware of this as he pried his stare away and ambled along.  
"... I was saying, it's not like I want to inconvenience those guys. I can find my own way home."

"No." Came Jumin's short reply.  
The pressure of his hand left Zen's back.  
"What do you mean, 'no-"  
"To your left, first door. Sorry, you're not going home tonight." 

The actor immediately stopped in his tracks.  
His shoulders stiffened as if something had suddenly seized him from the inside.  
And then he was slowly turning around to face the taller man.  
Those scarlet eyes seemed to catch all the light in the foyer, absorbing the glistening refractions before beaming them back like daggers.

Jumin frowned as that glare sharply maimed him.  
The scathing look birthed a creature.  
Invisible claws that dug at his confines and squeezed at his throat...  
It was highly possible that nobody had ever dared to give him a look like that.

"What...?" Zen's voice gave a dangerous lift, growing eerily quiet.  
Jumin scrutinized the narrowing crimson stare and crossed his arms, mentally hitting the emergency shutdown switch on his emotions.  
"I won't allow you going around without proper security. It's not safe. And since I've taken your advice and sent them home 'on time for the sake of their families and comfort,' you will now stay the night."

"Oh...?" His jaw clenched tightly.  
"Just like that? Like it's a _consequence_ stemming from my own actions and now you're making me pay for it? You decided this for me, you bastard!" Zen barked. 

That fiery temper was rising at record-breaking speed, Jumin observed.

"- Did you think I'd be okay with that if you never asked for my opinion or permission!? What, you think I wanna stay here longer than necessary?"  
He took a deliberate step forward.  
"Zen, calm down." The taller man evenly said.  
"No! I was being nice, you jerk. This is what I get for agreeing to your invitation? Sudden House Arrest?!" 

_Well,_ Jumin thought.  
_\- It wasn't precisely House Arrest, as this wasn't Zen's residence..._  
But bringing up the point was not wise. 

The climbing volume and intensity was already a ticking timebomb and Zen visibly bristled with rage now.  
The corporate heir was entirely stoic, but even he could feel the waves coming off the actor's broad frame.

"You're damn full of yourself if you think I'll act just like one of your countless employees, saying 'yes, oh, of course, anything you say, let me polish your shoes and kiss them.' ... I don't work that way..." He aggressively bit out with a jab of his finger. 

_Where was all this anger coming from?_ Jumin wondered as he studied the intensity of that glare.  
It was strange that he was so unnecessarily volatile, at the slightest bit of control over his freedom.  
An utter waste of energy.

"Zen..."  


Jumin lowered his arms to his sides as a non-confrontational gesture and the actor gave him a strangely calm stare, despite the seething fire in his eyes.  
Zen took another step forward, those boots giving a discreet squeak into the marble as they bore down.  
Jumin didn't move as the man's leather collar scraped against his coat.  


"Han Jumin..." Came the hissing gnash of teeth.  
Those crimson eyes flashed dangerously as he snapped into the heir's personal space.  
"You are an arrogant... selfish..."  
Jumin watched that mouth slowly drag out each seething insult.  
"- self-entitled... bas-"  
"... Stay." The low whisper broke into the small space between them. 

Zen's crimson eyes fastened on subdued gray ones.  
"Please..."  
Something flickered from the depths of scarlet in reaction to the request.  
"If you dislike it so much, I won't ask it of you next time."  
Jumin's gaze swept over the man's face.  
And then the heir's lips had parted with a soft sigh.  
Zen could smell the remnants of the sweet red wine on him.  
The heat in the space they shared.  
How had he gotten this close... 

"Just for tonight," Those light gray eyes lowered.  
Zen studied the fan of dark eyelashes and stilled.  
"- please let me do what I feel is right..."

Han Jumin? 'Feel'?  
Hah.  
But there was something about that particular tone.  
The gentle lull and tapered edges of words as they trickled into a quiet whisper.  
It seeped into Zen, and blanketed, and coaxed his irritation back to its confines.  
The actor found the rest of his words snagging in his throat, until they simply died away with the remnants of his simmering temper.

And then he was left with a small sliver of annoyance at the realization that he had let a glimpse of his inner beast out, the juvenile delinquent of his past that he kept carefully-hidden.  
He was a different man now, he wanted to be and he tried hard.  
And Han Jumin had managed to call it out, observe it, and then subdue it for him.  
Control him.  
Again. 

"I apologize. Admittedly, I was being too selfish. But nothing will come from being so angry."  
That voice tugged at his defenses.

"... You're just like him." Came the unthinking whisper.  
"I... don't quite understand."  
"... It's nothing, forget it."  
"Zen..."  
The heir appeared almost weary.  
"... Didn't I say I would listen? You can tell me."

The silver-haired man gave him a slow look, feeling oddly misplaced all of a sudden. 

"You won't understand, and that will just piss me off even more."  
"... Try me?"

Something was there barely cushioning the question - small and fragile, uncertain.  
A flimsy thing that Zen intuitively knew would retreat if he continued to push it away.  
He imagined holding it in his hands, this fragile thing.  
His chest gave a squeeze, and he didn't know why. 

Why...

His hardened stare lowered, lush eyelashes pressing to his skin in frustration.  
"Jumin..." He finally began with an even breath.  
"Would you like a drink?" The man silently asked.  
And it sounded strangely resigned and empty.  
Deprived of the confidence of a conglomerate executive who wielded the power of one of South Korea's most successful enterprises. 

Jumin sounded vulnerable. 

The actor sighed, even as his mind worked overtime trying to discern exactly what he was feeling.  
And before he could say anything, the man had walked ahead and opened the door to the lounge area.  
"Sit and I'll brew you South African tea." He said, disappearing into the room. 

Zen's shoulders collapsed with an aggravated hiss of breath as he followed.  
"I never said I wanted a drink. And I never decided on tea." He mumbled, shoving at the mahogany door. 

\---  
11:35pm  
-  
-  
-

Jumin hung his coat and vest over a bar stool before lifting the top off the brewing kettle.  
He leaned over the countertop to select a gold-rimmed cup while Zen slumped into the L-shaped couch studying the intricately-designed container. 

"Limited Edition Honeybush tea leaves, hand-picked and specially selected from homegrown - Jesus Christ!"  
Zen's eyes bulged as he spotted the white sticker and he quickly flipped the can, scanning it. 

"I could buy three sets of high-end trench coats at the price of this thing."

He glanced up as Jumin lowered the steaming cup on a gold-rimmed saucer.  
The stark fragrance of the brew immediately assaulted Zen's nose as the ceramic clinked lightly into the table.  
He folded his leather jacket and set it aside, idly studying the light brown liquid. 

"What you choose to do with your money is not my business... How many times in a day do you take the Lord's name in vain?" Came the flat inquiry as Jumin eased into the space next to him.  
"What are you, a preacher? Mr. Holier-than-thou?" Zen countered, finally picking the cup up by its handle and blowing repeatedly like he would a piping-hot bowl of noodles.  
"I'm not properly ordained for such a thing."  
"Obviously." The actor gave the brew a sip before leaning forward and fixing the man with a stare.  
"If we're talking about morals, Han Jumin, then I hope you support fair trade. Those workers in Africa should be getting their cut from this crazy overpriced tea."  
"They are fairly compensated. Thank you for your concern."

"Good..." A relieved sigh.  
Zen broke into a small smile, then.  
"This tastes even better now that I know that."  
Jumin silently studied him before he braced his elbows to his knees. 

"Zen..." He started.  
"Mm..." The man's throat moved at the sound as he quietly slurped.  
"You seem to find happiness in caring for the well-being of other people...-"  
"Of course! If Seven's the Defender of Justice, I'm everyone's Knight in Shining Armor." He unthinkingly answered.

The corporate heir watched him for a moment, and then his face lowered.  
"We are truly different."  
"Yeah, because you don't care. At all." Zen snorted.  
"In my life, caring or choosing not to, never made much of a difference."  
"Of _course_ it makes a difference! What do you mean?"  
"I mean to say, there is no point... Because I will never know if the people around me are truly happy."  
The actor's eyebrows rose.  
"Jumin, how could you not know??" 

Silence.

Zen angled forward trying to catch the young heir's downcast gaze.

"Because of my privileged background, people around me... are always pleasant. You might say this is a convenient thing. But it's also impossible to truly understand anyone and their intentions. Are the people around me sincerely happy about my decisions? Behind their smiles and thoughtful words, do they really mean what they say or not...? It's tiring to consider all these things, and even more so when you are emotional about it."

Zen slowly lowered his cup as he listened.

"It never made a difference even if I asked for their honesty. They tell me only what they want me to hear... It's funny isn't it?"  
The raven-haired man looked up then, with a touch of a faint, humorless smile.  
"The sincere thoughts and feelings from the people around me... I don't know if I'll ever hear it. I don't know what really makes them happy... what makes _me_ happy... so I've learned not to care. I think this is best if you can't efficiently separate truth from lies. It's pointless to feel bad."

 _Not knowing true happiness?_  
Zen didn't really know what to say to that.  
He could see why the bastard held emotions in such low regard.  
It was... kind of sad. 

"Jumin..." He murmured.  
The strangely detached and empty look in those gray depths as they met his, made Zen feel even worse.  
How far back in himself had Jumin locked away his heart? How long?  
He couldn't imagine what that did to someone's mind. 

And the actor truly saw him then as his layers fell away.

A manufactured product of the best Ivy League schools, with a dictated destiny and no freedom to dream of a different life...  
Did he ever feel accomplished even if he brimmed with success?  
Surrounded by false comforts and words, unable to connect to anyone but his dad and that cat...  
It was damn pitiful, really. 

Zen couldn't imagine living such a life for himself.  
In fact, it was exactly what he tried so hard to escape from.  
But the empathy that made him such a brilliant actor understood... and felt surprising pain.  
Jumin lived in his own cage, and with his own kind of loneliness.  
And he had buried his ability to feel so he could tolerate it.

The actor's heart grew heavy with guilt. 

"But, the RFA..." Zen attempted, shifting closer.  
"Yes, I know the RFA is different." The heir nodded.  
"But Assistant Kang is still my employee. Luciel and V are extremely hard to predict and they hide many things. Yoosung is young, and easily swayed so his opinions change like night and day. And the new girl, though nice and admirable, is too unfamiliar still..."  
Jumin audibly exhaled. 

"... And then there is you." His mouth subtly lifted.

Zen's throat tightened as those gray eyes fixed on him.  
"You don't have to worry about me..." He weakly joked.  
"It's the truth when I say I hate you."

"Is it?" A bare parting of lips.  
Zen closed his eyes.  
"No, Jumin..." He mumbled, giving him a slack look. "Of course not, I was kidding."

The heir braced an arm over the couch and curiously angled forward.  
Zen caught a glimpse of the man's twin collars, exposed from beneath the partially unbuttoned shirt.  
He swallowed.

"Then why do I always seem to upset you?"  
It was a genuine question, with no underlying threat to his person.

"You don't. I mean, not really..."  
"Curious."  
The actor's eyes met that calm stare and suddenly his heartbeat was beginning to pick up.  
Jumin's eyelids lowered a fraction, waiting patiently for a clear answer. 

"You..." Zen's voice came out with a waver.  
A steady thrum was pushing at his throat.  
"You... remind me of someone from my past. My older brother... He..."

Suddenly, the silver-haired man could feel an entire bulk of what he wanted to say threatening to tumble out of his mouth. 

"I'm listening..." Jumin reminded him.

"When I was younger... He always told me that I could be anything I wanted to be, that my face and my charms would take me places. He... supported me. The only one in my family who really believed in me. I actually thought I was worth a million bucks because of him."  
He looked down. 

"That meant... a lot... when I always just heard painful words from my parents. It meant the world, yknow? ... Because for a long time I really thought I was ugly."

Zen scoffed, looking momentarily pained.  
Jumin's eyes stilled seeing the brief expression before it quickly disappeared.

"And then he changed..." Zen's crimson eyes swept over Jumin.  
"He became someone like you. Someone successful, with a full degree and a high-paying job at a law firm. He began saying my dreams were childish - having a good face wasn't enough. When he took back everything he said... I was so crushed. It was like he suddenly abandoned me! Money was everything, he said. Money will make people listen. I know it's not rational... But... it's just, sometimes you sound exactly like him!"

Jumin looked away.  
His gray eyes searched the walls for a moment before they returned to Zen's face.  
"I see. My offers to help you using my status and connections remind you of his words and ideals. So you refuse me, because it is also proving him wrong. Turning me down is in a sense, turning him down."

Zen blinked.  
Well, he supposed the man wouldn't be running departments if he didn't possess such a quick mind.  
"... You... could say that, yeah." He managed, suddenly feeling ridiculous. 

"I see."

And then Jumin gave a short breath of a laugh.  
An odd sound the actor had never heard before.  
It wasn't half bad, actually. 

And just like that, Zen felt the cumbersome weight lift from him.  
Simply talking about his past, ironically with the man he exhausted all means to avoid.  
It felt... weird, and unexpectedly therapeutic.  
"What's so funny?" Zen couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips.  
"Nothing humorous..." The heir looked up in thought. 

"Just relief. I'm somehow glad I listened. It was the right decision." 

"Well... " Zen trailed off, feeling an odd warmth assault his chest.  
His mouth parted then, wanting to say more.  
And then he could do nothing but turn away, feeling the heat sting his cheeks.  
How or why Jumin elicited this kind of response from him... he didn't know. 

"It's not advisable for tea leaves to seep for so long, I should strain the pot-"  
The corporate heir rose from the couch.  
And something in Zen acted out, then. 

Jumin stopped and his eyes slowly lowered to his hand.  
Zen's fingers were there, decidedly tightening around the man's wrist.  
Their eyes met. 

"What-"  
"Thank you-" The actor blurted.  
"For all the times you offered to help me the only way you know how..."  
Jumin gave a slow blink.  
"Well, I wouldn't say it was the only way. I have many options at my disposal-"  
"Shut up, or you'll ruin it." Zen cut in.  
The heir's expression changed then, eyes searching the actor's face.

"... Ruin what?" Jumin's question lingered. 

"... The moment." Came the uttered response along with a frustrated shove on the man's wrist.  
Jumin slackened before he finally eased back down into the couch.  
"I don't understand, but this seems important to you." He said, eyebrows dropping in confusion.  
"God, Jumin. You're clueless..." Zen looked away, feeling his neck begin to warm.  
"- This really significant moment we're having, where we actually _understand_ each other... Our hearts being able to understand each other's pain."  
Something filled the gray depths of Jumin's eyes.  
"- I don't think I've ever shared something so personal with you or with anyone really, and I never really understood your life either. But it feels good... to have a heart-to-heart talk about stuff like this, and it's a little weird saying it but maybe I actually like that I'm here with you - and why are you looking at me like that...?"

Jumin had slipped closer, and his face was entirely concentrated on him... as if Zen was the only thing in the room.  
As if he'd suddenly discovered something.

"...God, forget I said anything." Zen's voice came out weak.  
He was growing increasingly aware of how his mouth must look talking, because Jumin's eyes lowered, now squarely fixed on it.  
"I can't. I have an exceptional memory..." Came the low murmur.  
He'd never seen so much intensity and focus on the man's face before. 

"Even more so because I feel the same way." 

It was irritating, how Jumin didn't even have to try.  
His bluntness was effortlessly charismatic.  
And the way he shamelessly _stared_... Like Zen was the most interesting person he'd ever laid eyes on and he was carefully memorizing every detail of his face.  
And... god, was that his own heartbeat?  
Zen heard it in his ears as the air thinned.  
Christ, it was really doing a number...  
It felt like...  
... Like it was gonna burst right out of -

Jumin's mouth pressed to his. 

An odd tilt that didn't quite fit, that resulted in a bumping of noses.  
Horrible. So horrible, the actor would have felt bad if his heart hadn't just rammed into his throat.  
His skin was tingling and the nerves were sharpening and god, Jumin was terrible at this.  
Zen released a harsh breath through teeth and angled properly for him.  
It was the least he could do. 

... And then it happened.

Jumin's mouth slid into place like an annoyingly perfect puzzle piece.  
The actor jerked with a sharp inhale through his nose as the man's lips closed over his.  
A delivery of uninterrupted current pulsed through Zen's body, stirring parts of him he'd neglected.  
That mouth was surprisingly soft and warm for a robot's.  
Zen's scarlet stare grew ever wider experiencing the strange, foreign sensation.  
And it didn't feel bad at all, came his shocking discovery...  
In fact...  
Raven strands tickled at his nose and he caught a whiff of oak and amber.  
God, did Jumin always smell this good?

Zen weakened against him, closing his eyes to the shining light fixtures beginning to blur into splashes of dim yellow.  
He gripped at Jumin's sides, pushing his palms to the thin fabric, feeling the solid expanse of ribs straining underneath.  
Jumin drew a breath at the contact, fingers winding around Zen's nape.  
He pulled him in with measured control, moving his mouth efficiently now to explore more of that velvet cusp.

At the bolder gesture from the heir, something exploded in Zen.  
It shot out from his stomach and coursed with heightened prickles as his nerves rapidly fired.  
His body was reacting with blind need for this man. 

_Oh... oh, god..._  
Jumin's fingers fastened to the thick of those silver strands. 

"God..." Came Zen's severe wrench of breath as his head fell back with the tug.  
The heir seized the opportunity and carefully flicked a tongue between that rosy gap.  
It wandered along the partition - innocent, clumsy, awkward...  
But Zen's body burned, feeling it explore delicately, carefully over the ridge of his upper lip.  
"Hmm." The raven-haired man pondered with a hum, sweeping sideways with another peck and tasting him.  
"Jumin..."  
A clipped breath that caused the heir to pause a bare millimeter from the corner of his mouth.  
He slowly released Zen.  
The actor pulled away enough that he could capture the onyx trenches in those gray irises. 

"You've never done this before, right?"  
The man looked irritated at that.  
"Don't underestimate me. I'm a fast learner." He stated.

"It's... not that."

His scarlet gaze lowered between them.  
"What is it you want?" Zen asked, trying to force down the distracting palpitations. 

It wasn't that he didn't have the experience...  
But to be honest, he had never been with another man.  
Did Jumin know what he was getting himself into?  
The respectable part of Zen, the part that had never treated a woman badly, needed that mutual confirmation before it was too late.  
Something in him knew, if they carried on, he wouldn't be able to stop.

All men were wolves once the clock struck 12, and someone like him, who lived in the moment and by his passion had very little control over these things. 

Did Jumin feel the same way?  
Did Jumin... _feel_?

"This?"  
Zen pressed a hand to the man's cheek, gauging his response.  
The heir craned into his touch even if those steely eyes never left his.  
"Is this what you want?" Zen asked insistently, trying to force down the lodge of breath.  
"I want everything." Jumin finally said.  
And then he was lunging for the man's mouth. 

"Mmh-..."  
The air in Zen's lungs snagged, tender beginnings escalading into sudden roughness that had Jumin pushing him against the upholstery by the face.  
The man's firm insistence coupled with the sloppiness of that tongue, the bumping of teeth, the inexperienced navigation...  
Zen received it all and parried, silently teaching Jumin with slow licks that went deeper into the man's mouth, bites that fastened with tempered control over his fleshy lip, careful sucks that sent their body temperatures rocketing.  


And behind closed eyelids, Jumin's mind worked through the haze of startling emotions.  
This dam that had broken loose and was beginning to fill him with something he had forgotten existed.  
This fierce possessiveness that was beginning to lock on to the man in front of him, refusing to let go.  


And once someone had won that, Jumin would give _anything_ to please.  
His mind was quick to learn - Soon surprising Zen with his impressive combinations of lip, teeth and tongue.  
Jumin calculated to deliver a most efficient result. 

Zen was drowning.  
A moan climbing its way up his throat as he gripped at the man's shirt.  
His arm fastened to Jumin's collar, pulling at the opening until the first few buttons strained and he was getting a glimpse of that throat and the thin blue veins running under porcelain skin.  
God, it was warm.  
He tugged his leather jacket to the floor as dampness clung to his nape. 

"Here, really? We're doing this here?"  
A shrill whisper from the actor.  


"Yes."  
Jumin pulled away with a harsh exhale, unfastening the buttons on his dress shirt.  
Zen's insides clenched heatedly seeing those gray eyes descend to his torso.  
The unabashed look caused his pulse to slam repeatedly until his chest was following with a frenzied rise and fall. 

How was it possible that the jerk he abhorred was now so successfully turning him on?  
Why was it that he was reacting this way to a man?  
Damn it, he always thought he was straight!  
Jumin's shirt fell open and he propped himself over Zen, descending with another swift assault to his mouth. 

It didn't matter.  
Their tongues met with needy breaths. 

Zen's hands touched at the bare skin of that torso for the first time.  
Not quite like his own body, which he'd worked countless hours a week to perfect.  
Jumin didn't sport a bulging six-pack like him, but the striking definition of muscles were there.  
A runner's body, sleek and long with a low percentage of fat, thanks to his hired chefs and nutritionists.  
His preferred means of working out gifted him with molded obliques that complemented his hipbones and dipped with trenches into more dangerous things underneath that waistband. 

Zen was about to trace at that vertical slant of a belly-button when the man froze.  
"The tea..." Came the sudden mumble, breaking the spell.  
Zen blinked heavily through the haze and pulled away.  
"Just leave it, Jumin..."  
But the heir's gears were already shifting.  


The man closed his eyes and rose.  
"... What suits do you think I should bring to California?"  
His gaze wandered away in thought.  
"Around this time, it should be mildly chilly, don't you think?"

_Right now, really??_

Zen watched him distractedly shrug off his shirt and take his time folding it.  
"Christ, give me that." The actor snatched it from him and hurled it far away.  
The heir's eyebrows bumped in irritation.  


"That was uncalled for-" His voice hardened.  


Zen pulled his own gray shirt over his head and tossed it mindlessly to demonstrate.  
"Stop thinking." The actor instructed.  
He pushed himself up and considered the raven-haired man.  
"Look at me, this is what matters right now. What you feel... Not your business trip."

His scarlet gaze studied those sharp, aristocratic features.  
He hated admitting it.  
... But Jumin was beautiful. 

And then his hand was on the man's jaw, tracing along its edge and nudging at his chin. 

_If you think too much..._  
_If I... think too much..._  
Zen's thumb swiped over that mouth as it delicately parted.  
_I'm afraid... this moment..._  
_... will be gone._  


"Jumin..."  
Zen whispered, leaning in and kissing at that frown until the man finally caved and sunk into him. 

Jumin tangled his fingers into the man's soft locks, catching at the ponytail and tugging it back - Exposing that smooth expanse of neck for his mouth.  
He lowered with a scrape of teeth, dragging kisses down the thrumming pulse until the actor released a tight moan and squirmed.

Zen's fingers curled into the heir's bare shoulders, tolerating his ministrations until he finally snapped with a growl.  
He shoved Jumin back until he wedged with a breath against the couch.  
A palm pinned him there, sliding down his chest before drifting sideways.  
Zen thumbed one pert nipple and gave it a sharp tug.  
A rush of pleasure zipped through Jumin's body, tearing a ragged breath of sound from him.  


He watched that half-lidded crimson gaze slide lower.  
There was a struggle in Jumin's mind at the imbalance of the moment.  
He had never experienced this - Maneuvered by someone else, handled just a little roughly.  
But the thrill that pushed up at his throat, the heat pooling in his belly, the pressure squeezing into his groin... 

Feeling as if he were at the mercy of this emotionally unpredictable, beautiful man...  
Something he'd never felt before.  
Giving up control over anything...  
It was almost liberating. 

His gray eyes watched Zen's hand lower over his stomach and slide between the parting of his slacks.  
"Jumin...?" Came the rough murmur.  
The heir didn't bother responding because that crimson stare had sharpened over the evident reaction in his pants.  
"... Okay then."  
A breathy chuckle.  
The heir barely heard it against the pulse beating against his ears.  


Zen pressed a palm to the discreet bulge, rubbing teasingly slow and gauging his reaction with a lift of eyebrows.  
"How is it?" His mouth lifted with a smile.  
"I... don't dislike it." Came the quaking tenor.  
"... That's conservative." Zen whispered, watching the shadow of reactions come over the heir.

And then Zen was sliding his knuckles more roughly against those trousers... and Jumin's breaths were no longer coming. 

His mind went blank, losing itself to the heat and the sensitivity and that hand calling something out that he couldn't quite control.  
The heir shut his eyes, face contorting in frustration as his spine snapped back.  
And then Zen's mouth was on his neck, and he was beginning to lose touch of the passing of time.  
Silken lips and a warm tongue sliding down his adam's apple, kissing at the hollow between his collarbones...  
Fingers undoing the buttons of his slacks, slipping nimbly under the garter of his jockeys...  


And it was painful, how much Jumin felt in that moment.  
How much he wanted to say he needed more.  
But the words remained bottled. 

Jumin's heart hammered in his chest, a shaky breath squeezing past his lips as the man finally gripped the hard length that swelled with impossible heat.  
Those fingers held him, and tightened and did familiar, methodic motions only he ever allowed himself to do.  
And it had never felt like this...

Jumin's chest faltered in a discordant pattern, rising with a sharp inhale as Zen's lips fastened over one pink nipple.  
The heir's hands tightened over the leather upholstery, fighting the urge to buck with his hips.  
A ghost of heat descended along his chest, a moist trail of a tongue, and then Zen had settled on the other nipple, sucking until Jumin's hand snaked into his hair in a grip for control.  
Zen bit at the nub in response, ears picking up the slightest hitch of sound.  
Because really, there was nothing else. 

"... You're really quiet, Jumin." 

Zen was tugging at the waistband now, and Jumin could do nothing but helplessly watch.  
"At least lift your ass so I can get this off, you pampered jerk." The actor snapped, hitting at a leg as he clicked his tongue.  


"Tch."  


That seemed to bring him back.  
Jumin's eyebrows bumped and he pushed himself up, allowing the man to yank off both his pants and jockeys.  
There was a small trace of irritation from the man when Zen simply balled up his clothes and tossed them behind him.  
Unwilling to be the only vulnerable one, he quickly snagged at Zen's waistband just as the man was standing.

The actor got a perfect view of lean, parted legs and everything generous in between as Jumin sat up and began unfastening his leather pants.  
Raven strands slid across his eyes, making his features unreadable. 

"My flight is at 10am. So I have to be packed by 7:30, served breakfast at 7:45. At the airport by 8:30, on the RFA messenger to look out for V, briefly 15 minutes before boarding..."  
Zen raised one eyebrow as the man recited his schedule.  
Well, this was one for the books.  
He could safely say it was the weirdest way he'd ever been undressed. 

"- First Class should serve 1984 Chatu Blanc at least, and not the tasteless Frontara they had on the Etihed Airways flight to Abu Dhabi..." The heir continued to drone.  
He unzipped the pants and pulled them down.  
"Jumin."  
"I'm not too fond of champagne either. For a 12-hour flight..."  
His voice trailed off, distracted.  
The heir's gray eyes openly observed the bump straining through the black underwear.

"... Do they have beer?" Zen joked, trying not to squirm under the merciless stare.  
"Does it matter?" Came the clipped answer.  
Jumin pulled the offending material off the man, releasing the girth from its confines.  


His mouth latched fiercely to Zen's hip, biting down on the jut of bone and grabbing his waist until the actor stumbled back into the couch.  
"Oh my god..." The actor wheezed, hitting his head into the pillow behind him.  
A careful slow suck on skin as the heir lowered.  
His fingers closed over Zen's length before the man could say anything, and he gave a tight squeeze.  
A groan rumbled out of the actor.

"Interesting." Jumin murmured with a twitch of a smile.

Zen was carved like a perfect greek sculpture.  
A broad chest like a swimmer's that rippled with trenches along his ribs.  
A perfect definition of abdominals straining against a slender waist and long, tapered legs.  
A very vivid result of obsessive self-care and discipline.  
He belonged in a Greco-Roman museum. 

Jumin was almost inspired to start another business.  
He took his time admiring that torso, lingering briefly over a slash of a scar along one hip and a small sprinkle of moles over his rib cage.

"... I've never undressed someone else before."  
Jumin released his length and kissed up that taut stomach before finally settling down beside him.

"Congratulations, now you know how your nanny feels."  
"... I no longer have one."  
"Well, that's a relief, Jumin. It really is."

Zen heard a low bubble of laughter coming from the man.  
It was probably the first time he'd ever heard Mr. Director laugh like that.  
The sound was surprisingly melodic and rich.  
The actor watched those eyes crinkle, the thick tips of eyelashes, the small indent on one cheek as he grinned...  
All these small things about Jumin that he was starting to discover...  
Zen felt his chest squeeze.

"Jumin... Can I..."  


The heir looked at him and then down at the hand sliding over his stomach.  
"Do whatever you want..." He said, gentling into the couch.  
"If you really mean that..." The actor's heartbeat picked up.  
"I was selfish enough. It's only fair." Jumin murmured.  
The slight heat tainting Zen's cheeks only made him more appealing.  
"I'm at your disposal." The heir half-joked, wanting to get more of a reaction from the actor. 

Success.  
Those charms served beyond contract negotiations.  


Zen's mouth landed on his with an almost greedy demand, sucking and dragging his teeth across the surface of that fleshy lower lip.  
Jumin slipped an arm under the man's, pressing between his shoulder blades and pulling that warmth closer.  
He barely noticed the descent of fingers trailing down his hip, and then he became entirely aware of it as Zen's palm finally bumped into his swelling member.  
Everything under Jumin's skin sharpened in anticipation, feeling the light caress of that hand gradually grip at him and begin to stroke.  
It was different and delicious, and it was causing something in him to come loose.  
Jumin crumbled with a stagger of breaths, shutting his eyes to the climbing heat. 

The actor caught at that opened mouth, trailing a tongue under his upper lip before biting with impressive discipline on the cusp.  
He dragged that flesh forward until the heir pushed into him, wanting more.  
Jumin prodded with a tongue and Zen opened for him, allowing the man to explore the joys of an obscenely intimate make-out.  
The sight was enough to make anyone blush.  
Zen's motions picked up a notch before finally working into a steady rhythm.  
It was relentless, and possessed all the right combinations.  
So unbearable, the heir finally wrenched away from his mouth with a silent grimace.

There was an advantage to being with another man, Zen realized.  
It was the fact that he knew what would make Jumin feel good. 

 

The man was so incredibly hard in his grip.  
And despite the lack of appreciative sounds, Jumin's body was honest.  
Zen was too intuitive to miss a thing. 

He squeezed over that sensitive tip, twisting and then sliding back down, experimenting with a few quick jerks until he could feel that body beside him beginning to tighten like a coiled spring.  
And just when those slender hips were lifting and instinctively moving into his hand, he broke into a slow, unbearable tease, earning a frustrated exhale.

Jumin pressed with a hiss into the crook of his neck, struggling to cope with the deprivation following such a steady build of pleasure.  
He latched on to the fleshy curve of Zen's neck.  
Licking at the bulk of muscle as the man continued to stroke him...  
Kissing almost carefully between the brace of shoulder...  
Until that tongue got sloppy and his breaths grew ragged, and he was straining...  
And then Zen heard a tripping exhale and felt Jumin's teeth.  
And he bit.  
Hard. 

"Ju-... Owww-!"  
Zen winced, pulling down one eye.  
Jumin was hot to the touch, and quaking, and somewhere between his palm Zen could feel just a bit of familiar dampness.

And then the name slipped out, unbidden in the heated space between their breaths.  
"Hyun..." A shaken whisper that held significant weight and discovery. 

His real name sounded foreign on the corporate heir's mouth.  
But Zen had never heard it like this...  
Like it was a precious, sacred thing as it left the man's eloquent tongue.  
As if it meant everything.

Zen stilled and pulled away slightly, lowering his eyes to consider the young heir.  
"... Why," The actor whispered.  
An odd pain assaulted his chest.  
"Calling me that all of a sudden... " His voice trailed off.

Jumin's heavy gaze slid up, his pupils now entirely dilated from the endeavor.  
Zen blinked in the shadows between them, watching the man's pale features work to untangle his threads.  
"Jumin..." He gently said.  
The heir looked down, focusing somewhere along the actor's stomach. 

"I wasn't quite finished." Came the laughably bitter tone.  
"... I'll do something about it after you answer."

"Normally, when I get carried away, I make sure to excuse myself to find a place I can quietly think... It just came out."  
Locks of raven slipped over his nose as he sunk against the leather armrest.  
"Well, okay..." Zen began.  
And then he was reaching up, brushing the strands from a gray eye.  
"It's just you've never called me that." He murmured.  
"Do you dislike it?"  


Zen thought about that.  
His real name had a lot of pain attached to it, but that strangely wasn't the first thing he thought when he heard it from the young heir's mouth. 

"... Not when you say it. It's fine, surprisingly."  
"I see."  
"Which is _really_ weird, yknow? Because you naturally piss me o-"  
"Don't leave me like this..."  


And there was something in Jumin's voice that was sincere, and vulnerable and even marginally begging.  
Zen blinked at him and then gave his signature snort.  
"Alright, Mr. Director... Even if you did say I could do whatever I wanted."  
He grinned and kissed at Jumin's ear.

"I assumed, by that, you wanted to fuck me in the ass." Came the fluid murmur.

Zen stopped mid-lick and pulled away with saucer eyes.  
"Exc-... uh... Mm, wha-??" He stuttered.  
He'd never heard such lewd "commoner" terms ever leave that elitist mouth.  
It was once in a blue moon that Jumin even dropped a 'shit,' or 'damn,' and he didn't even know what 'effing' meant till a few days ago. 

... Apart from that - Did he really just hear the proposition he did?  


Thank god for curiosity, late drunken nights and juvenile delinquency.  
If 707 ever hacked into his browser history, he'd probably have a field day.  
Zen wasn't entirely innocent despite his chivalrous demeanor.  
He _looked_ like a god, but he didn't necessarily possess the goodness to be one.

...

... 'Assfuck' was possibly in his top 5 porn searches.  


And Jumin was wading into very dangerous territory, because why was his body responding so well to the thought?  
Zen felt the increasing pressure squeeze into his groin and he knew enough from the neglect that it was gonna turn into a serious case of blue-balls.

His heart was relentless, drumming out a feverish staccato.  
This night was nothing like he had expected.  
This was crazy.  
"It's obvious isn't it? You'll be in control." Jumin murmured.  
"You know if I agree to any kind of fucking, it will change everything." The actor whispered, suddenly very deprived of breath.  


Those gray eyes calmly looked out at him from behind a cascade of raven locks.  
"Not everything..." Jumin slowly said.  
"Just our relationship."  


Zen swallowed as the man gentled and gave a charming curl of a smile.

And then the moment was broken.  


A sudden jerk of vibrations began pulsing somewhere behind Jumin.  
The actor swiveled hearing the fluttery beginnings of an elegant piano piece floating out from the upholstery.  
"Is that-..." Zen trailed off.  
The heir didn't move.  
"My Blackberry. It's the assigned ringtone... for the girl." Jumin quietly said.  


\- TBC -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Yes, Jumin is doing bottom. 
> 
> Requested by a friend, who said there was an utter lack of it.  
> I consider it an interesting challenge.  
> I was never a fan of fixed Semes and Ukes.  
> I always believed there would be an equal experience for both. 
> 
> So, for bottom-Jumin! *raises beer glass*
> 
> \--
> 
> Sorry if you were expecting otherwise. X}
> 
> \- Second_Best


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> GRAPHIC LEMON WARNING: Lewd to the nth degree.  
> Be forewarned.
> 
> \--
> 
> In this fanfic, Han Jumin sings.
> 
> Inspired by his voice actor -  
> If you visit youtube you can have a listen.
> 
> Youtube > Type: 'Han Jumin singing'  
> ... Be amazed and kiss your underwear goodbye! ^o^)/~
> 
> Moving on...
> 
> *raises beer glass*  
> To Bottom Jumin!  
> (Which will come after 2.5749 centuries.)
> 
> The word count on this is heavy.  
> But I hope the good friend who is celebrating her birthday today will like it.<3  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
> 
> And for the rest of you, please enjoy! <3

 

\---

1:20am  
-  
-  
-

They looked at each other.  
The phone continued to vibrate mercilessly under them.

"Don't be even more of a jerk, Han Jumin..." Zen deflated with a weary smile.

The piano piece continued along, increasing in momentum as the notes thrummed to the entrance of a viola accompaniment.

"I had no intentions to be. It might involve the security system."  
Those gray eyes broke away first, and Jumin finally swiveled to dig into the gaps of the cushions.  
"Let's hope not..." Zen quietly said.

The actor lowered his head into the armrest, exhaling the tension that had built up.  
It wasn't like he'd never dealt with blue-balls before, and it was possibly worse for the bastard anyway...

Zen slid a forearm over his eyes as Jumin finally retrieved the black device and stared at the caller ID.  
With a breath, the heir was up, languidly throwing a leg over Zen's hip and extracting himself.  
His intimate bits snagged not-so-subtly over the swell of the actor's thigh, leaving a damp trace of the earlier endeavor.

Zen's eyes bulged.  
He lifted his arm away and stared at the glistening trickle on his skin.

"Jumin!? Y-your...-!!! -.... G-hh."  
"I apologize. Excuse me." Came the detached answer.

The actor snorted, watching that bare ass moving further away.

It was almost impressive, how easily Jumin's gears shifted from ravished victim to refined (and very naked) debonair.  
He stepped past the table, stopping to pluck his rumpled business-shirt from the floor.

An expression of annoyance fell over his face as he eyed the wrinkles on it and gave it a firm shake.  
And then he hit the call receive and pressed the Blackberry to his ear.

"It's you..." Came the fluid greeting, slightly huskier than usual.  
He gave the clock above the bar a quick glance.  
"It's quite late now... Is everything okay?" He subtly asked.

The girl answered.  
Something short, punctuated by a small chuckle.  
Zen could hear her exuberance in the silence of the room as Jumin shifted.  
That was a good sign.  
The actor gentled with relief.

Jumin's gray eyes moved sideways, catching at the man's crimson gaze.  
"... I see."  
The heir's mouth lifted subtly.

Zen felt a small knot tighten in his gut seeing that small shred of acknowledgement.  
And then his eyes had unthinkingly descended, taking in the half-erection barely peeking behind one long pale leg.

"I understand that it can get lonely when you're there on your own."

Jumin obliged, turning to face him, allowing Zen a full view of everything he could appreciate.  
His raven locks and those broad shoulders illuminated by the dome lights behind him.  
The shadows cutting across his slender form and the subtle contours on his stomach and hips.  
The actor stretched into the couch and gave him a thumbs-up and a pleased smile.

"If you're having troubled thoughts, or just can't sleep... I suggest drinking some wine before bed."  
Jumin's own eyes wandered appreciatively over Zen's body as he spoke, watching those muscles flex over straining ribs as the man finally reached for his own phone.

"Or perhaps, you would just like to talk...?"  
He tore his stare away and tilted into the receiver.

A longer pause this time as the girl offered a string of words that caused the heir's eyes to wander away towards the door.  
Zen peered at that face as an expression akin to brief enlightenment streaked through it.

"Then, in that case, you can ask me anything and I will try my best to answer." Jumin murmured, closing his eyes.

He slowly raised a finger in the man's direction, giving their moment pause.  
And then Jumin was pulling the shirt on and walking out of the lounge.

The actor raised an eyebrow, surprised at the man's abrupt departure in his state.  
Given the same situation, Zen didn't think he'd be able to even leave the couch, much less pry his lust-driven hands away from an adonis body like his!  
How could anyone resist  _this!_

If Jumin freely walked around butt-naked from room to room, then it was likely that nobody ever came to interrupt this late into the evening.  
Come to think of it, it hadn't occurred to him to lock the door before their little endeavor.

Still...

Zen ran his fingers through his spiked bangs in thought.  
What was up with that?  
He was starting to enjoy that little eavesdropping moment...  
And he was kind of curious about how the jerk handled his calls.

"Damn." He mumbled, clutching at his unkempt strands.  
Admittedly, the titillating show was what he'd liked most.

Zen reddened and sank his frown behind the armrest with an audible exhale.  
Without having the right mood or space to do a proper jog, his mind grew antsy and began to do its own little race.

Was it something she said that caused him to leave the room?  
What did he possibly have to tell her that he suddenly preferred to be outside?

 _"You're not the only one she calls..."_  
A subtle reminder trickling through his mind in that heir's voice.  
Maybe it bothered him after all.

The actor's eyebrows furrowed.  
And then he felt it.  
That stealthy, shameful part of him crawling into his consciousness.  
Back from the murky depths where he always buried it.  
His Insecurity.

He studied the leather upholstery in front of his nose, trying to ignore it as it incessantly nagged.  
In his mind, there was a little boy with white hair.  
A beautiful boy, far too attractive for his own good and far too young to distinguish lies from truths.  
Curled up in his room with his hands clapped over his ears, tuning out the voices that assaulted him.  
It still stung.  
Day in and day out with that chewing negativity that eventually scarred him.

 _... You're not good enough!_  
Jumin... seems... gentler with the girl.  
And he did have his charms if he wanted to use them.  
She's probably nicer and more tolerant than I can ever be.

 _... There's nothing special about you!_  
God, anyone could fall for that voice, especially if it sounded the way it did just now.  
And, obviously Jumin was a good-looking guy, not to mention one of the richest heirs in the country.  
And who am I?

 _... You ugly, ugly child._  
Did Jumin tell her personal things that he didn't share with the RFA?  
Maybe he wasn't refined enough to hear them.  
I'm a mongrel compared to his fine-breeding.

 _... Your voice? Your looks? ... Stop dreaming and study, you're stupid enough as it is._  
Was Jumin even capable of 'romance' and would she fall for it?  
The girl was an angel.  
And I'm a juvenile delinquent without a proper education.

Zen's face grimaced as he pushed the thoughts away.  
His chest constricted with minor panic.

 _Breathe, Zen. You'll get wrinkles thinking too much._  
_Wrinkles are bad._  
_You're too handsome to have wrinkles._  
_You'll still be handsome if you have wrinkles, but that's not the point..._

 _You're good enough. You'll win. You're loved._  
_You're loved._  
_You're loved._

He pressed his palm to his face and peeked out from the gaps between his fingers, chanting his daily mantra until his mind focused and his breaths evened.

The only thing Han Jumin could properly romance was his cat.  
Right.  
Maybe.  
... Honestly, after tonight, he wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

Zen didn't want to think, but he couldn't help it.  
He was an actor, and depending on the circumstances and the people around him, he knew how to put on a show to hide a great many things.  
But the truth was that he wasn't entirely confident at all.  
And he wasn't entirely selfless.  
He could be  _very_  selfish when it came to the people he loved.  
And right about then, he was feeling his own strong possessiveness beginning to unfurl like a jealous toxin splashing the walls of his intesti-...

 _... Wait - ... LOVE?_  
Zen slumped back into the couch.

His heartbeat picked up.  
And upon further contemplation his stomach gave a sharp plummet.  
No... That couldn't be it.  
The actor thumbed at his lip.

He was supposed to like the girl a hundred times more than Han Jumin!  
'Supposed to.'

His mouth unhinged as he gave his teacup a horrified stare.  
Because he was naked and hard, and he was actually a little jealous that the man was talking to her.  
And Zen had to admit it sooner or later that he was only lying to himself.  
That this mess he'd agreed to was more than just a little curiosity.

... His heart fluttered in response and he swallowed.

Oh.  
Oh no.

\--

Jumin's shirt fell open as he padded through the shadowed foyer.  
With his Blackberry pressed to his ear, he patiently listened to the girl.

Her voice was pleasant.  
Sunshine in a field. A warm breeze over ocean waves.  
A lighthearted strings and wind concerto.  
He always looked forward to hearing the ardent way it traipsed, like a melody.

She asked him a question about Steak.

"I've enjoyed many steak dishes, and it can be prepared in different ways. I enjoy it best with red wine while watching Elizabeth the 3rd. My lady brings me nothing but joy and there is no better way to relax."  
A breath ejected with a hint of impatience or perhaps, weariness.  
It was a habit anyone recognized if they listened long enough.

She disregarded his prized pet and asked him how he preferred his Steak.

"I prefer it cooked Medium. The Chef Lamsay once told me that a steak cooked well-done is considered a waste of proper food. A premium steak is ideally 25% done on the edges and 50% pale pink in the middle. Not that I have ever cooked one. I have people to do this for me."

He veered right towards the marble-tiled kitchen and mindlessly entered a security code into the lockpad, triggering all the motion-sensor ambient lights as he walked in.

"After the party perhaps... we can enjoy this particular meal." He graciously added.

The girl gave a tinkling laugh that sounded equally delighted and embarrassed as Jumin mutely scanned the various spices, preservatives and sauces in the stainless shelves around the counter.

... And then she asked what he was wearing.  
Typical.  
After she'd asked about his speedo photoshoot, it became a frequent question.

Jumin skimmed over the various jars and containers until he spotted what he was looking for.  
He reached for the heavy glass bottle and plucked it up, scanning its label.

"What I'm wearing...?" He distractedly mused, giving the contents a brief shake.  
"I'm wearing a dress shirt. Were you expecting something more comfortable? I always prefer a little tension with what I wear. But... this is not a topic to be discussed if you'd like to go to sleep properly... Don't you agree?"

He turned around and left the kitchen with the lights deactivating upon his exit.

The girl on the phone was flustered.  
She stammered a few vowels.

" 'Uh... Ah... Oh...' " He repeated after her with a faint lift of his mouth as he walked the hall.  
"... Is that a new language or a song? Perhaps, you've been talking to Luciel far too much?"  
That tone was flat even if he aimed to tease her.

He sauntered back into the foyer and eyed the lounge door.

\--  
**[ Uhm, a song! Oh, can you sing? Sing me a lullaby... ]**  
\--

Jumin paused as he reached for the handle.  
Well, at least this particular subject was appropriate for sleep.

His hand hovered at the lounge's knob.  
And then he scoffed and closed his eyes, turning away from the door.

The newest RFA member would not let him go so easily.  
But he rather liked her persistence.  
It played a key role in the invitation of the party guests.  
Yes, he would encourage this behavior by providing her with a reward.

"Let me think. I haven't heard one in a long time..."  
Jumin made his way to a nearby armchair.  
He slipped into it with his back to the lounge.

Those stormy eyes moved across the tinted view of the skyline in front of him.  
A lone, red light blinked from a tower and he studied the far-off billboards in thought.

"Ah..." He finally said.  
"I think I have one. Are you ready?"

He braced an elbow and leaned against the phone, clearing his throat.  
And then the man began to sing.  
His hushed tenor curling into the silence of the room.  
A velvet smokiness that was honest with its absence of frills and vibrato.

"  
...  
_The moon has come~_  
_Stars light the way~_  
_The train of Father is rolling in~_

 _We'll bring your toys~_  
_And tuck your chin~_  
_And carry you to a dream..._  
"

\--

Zen was sifting through his message exchange with Yoosung when he heard the inaudible melody drift in.  
The actor slowly pulled up from the couch, ears perking.  
The muffled notes fell in low hums through the stillness in the air.

A song, Zen quickly identified...

He held his breath, confused and continuing to listen.  
And then his crimson eyes widened and he lifted from the couch, completely alert.  
It took a moment for his mind to put such an impossible thing together.

... But Han Jumin was  _singing_.

Zen couldn't help it.  
His feet padded towards the door.

\--

"  
_Oh sweet child, find peace in sleep~_  
_We'll send you up, with your scarf and hymns~_  
_Please don't forget all our memories~_  
_On the train of Father...-_  
"

The door to the lounge clicked, followed by a light shuffling.  
Jumin's voice fell away, turning to see Zen approach from the shadows.  
The man wore a puzzled expression as he came to a slow stop and leaned over the armchair.

The heir gestured to the space beside him before tilting back into the receiver.

And then Zen was hearing the surprisingly soothing melody leave Jumin's lips.

"  
_Appa* is here to see you off~_  
_To watch you so you're not alone~_  
_Remember the river and the fields you roamed~_  
_They're there till we grow old~_

"  
Zen's composure slowly stilled with every verse, listening to that soft voice blanket the quiet.  
His mind was instantly drawn to the heavy tones.  
And those words.

"  
_Eomma* is here to say goodnight~_  
_Just one last time, to hug you tight~_  
_Remember your promise, watch us from the sky~_  
_And laugh with your bright eyes..._

 _We'll meet again... in time..._  
_Let's meet in the next life..._

"  
A sad song, the actor realized.  
Jumin's voice dwindled into a murmur.

"  
_We'll love you and our hairs will gray~_  
_The leaves will turn and stars will fade~_  
_But you sweet child, will stay the same~_  
_We'll have you back someday..._

"

Somehow, Zen was aching.  
And then he was remembering.  
The sway of branches against the dark ceiling of his old room.  
The rickety mattress and the fading lights from the street.

Why.

"  
_Let's meet again, but... until then..._  
_We'll watch the train pass by~_

 _and dream..._  
_of days..._  
_gone by...._

"

... It was a goodbye song.

A lonely weight pressed into the actor's chest.  
And he looked at the man as the last whispers dropped into the stillness of the room.

Something in Zen's chest squeezed so painfully then, watching the corporate heir staring out into the sea of lights.  
Silently and in isolation while the bustle of life he couldn't ever know, thrived down below.  
Something about that regrettable thought on top of his own bitter memories made Zen feel completely miserable now.

This unfeeling robot...  
Who seemed to share his emptiness...  
Singing things like that...  
About loneliness and goodbyes...

His emotions brimmed and he couldn't help it.  
An indescribable sorrow filled him.  
And then his eyes began to tear up for some damn reason.  
Zen sank to a crouch and braced his hands on the armrest.  
And he had no words, just looking at the man.

"Are you asleep...?" Came the hushed question.  
Jumin lowered, listening to the silent whisper at the end of the line.  
"Close your eyes. Then... Good night." He murmured.

The heir pulled the mobile from his ear and hung up.

"Jumin..."  
Zen's voice was thick.

"... Yes?"  
The man tilted.

Those scarlet eyes watched him, moist like quivering rubies in the mute yellow glow.  
And then Jumin observed in mild fascination as two tears, perfectly formed and glistening, trickled down those cheeks.  
... It was like seeing a climactic scene from a Drama.

His eyebrows rose.  
When was the last time he'd seen something like this.  
Ah, sometime early this year when he actually turned his TV on.

"You jerk... Why are you singing such a sad song!?" Zen moaned, swiping his knuckles to his eyes.

The actor didn't know why that ordinary moment had suddenly grown into something significant.  
He didn't know why he was feeling this bad.  
Or why this man he was only starting to understand brought up memories of his own loneliness.  
It was like something had unraveled inside him listening to that song and that voice.  
And seeing that side of him...  
He knew he was emotionally-driven but this was ridiculous.  
How did Jumin manage to do this to him in the span of a few hours?

"Why are you crying?" Came the mildly intrigued query.  
"God, I don't know? Stop staring at me, I'm done..."

Perhaps, it was more than this...  
Perhaps, Zen was also afraid.  
Suddenly unsure of his beliefs and his heart, and what would happen to them once morning came.  
Would he see the same things the dark fed him?  
Would he  _feel_  the same after he took into consideration their careers, their friends, the vast difference of their worlds...  
Was sharing  _one_  thing, one night, enough to survive the harsh scrutiny of everything and everyone else?

And it was stupid, that he was thinking way too much when he said they shouldn't.  
And why was the bastard so damn complacent!

Zen thoughtlessly grabbed Jumin's cuff-sleeve and dragged it to his cheeks.  
The heir didn't particularly like this.  
But he tolerated the gesture, letting the man have his arm.

"... The girl asked for a lullaby, so I sung her one."  
"Probably to help her sleep?! Not to possibly upset her with a story of parents sending off their dead kid!"

"Dead kid..." Jumin repeated slowly.

"Yeah! I pay attention to things like this, especially lyrics." Zen insisted, welcoming the distraction and quickly recovering.  
"I never really bothered to notice."  
The man blinked.  
"It effectively puts me to sleep, and that's what matters."  
"Their child is dead, Jumin." Zen dragged out.  
"Is that why you're so emotional?"

Jumin was amused.  
For a brief moment, Zen wanted to sincerely punch him on the nose.  
And maybe, at the same time, he wanted to kiss that mouth.  
Why did those lips always part so delicately like that, like he was about to confess something intimate?

"You know, normal people get carried away by these things." Zen's expression deflated.  
"How could you sing her that, what if she's so unsettled she'll stay up till dawn..."

Jumin frowned.

"Point taken, I'll buy her a collection of lullabies for her to listen to at night."  
"Or I can sing her happy ones." Zen deadpanned, pushing himself up to a stand.

Jumin gave the man's torso a sweeping glance as he straightened.  
"I'm sorry I left so abruptly." He said.  
"It's fine... More than that, I didn't know you sung so well. I'm kind of shocked." The actor mumbled, offering a wry smile.  
"Etiquette classes from pre-school to middle school." Jumin explained.  
"It was a requirement to be able to sing pleasantly. Ah..."

A sigh.  
Zen's ears honed in on it and his stomach gave a heated twist.  
How could such a small sound do this to him?

"Christmas parties and company events, particularly, were a chore."

The man shifted and Zen's eyes distractedly lowered at the movement, inspecting the way one side of that business shirt was barely hiding his generous bits from between those parted legs.

And then the thoughts came, unbidden.  
He wanted to run his hands up those thighs...  
He wanted to pull that shirt back and see it all.  
Part those muscular legs and-

"... I like the look on your face." Jumin commented, observing him.

Zen's crimson eyes immediately shot up.  
Something flared hearing that casual honesty and seeing the ghost of a smirk.

And his earlier mood entirely disappeared.  
Because damn it, he wanted to take Jumin on the chair right now!

"I'm glad you finally acknowledge this handsomeness." He tightly said.

The actor braced his arms over the chair and gave the man's mouth a lingering peck.  
His stomach wedged, feeling the soft response of those lips.  
"I'll give the girl a call in the morning to check on her." Zen promised, pulling away.

And then he grabbed Jumin's collar and yanked.  
"C'mon. We have unfinished business."  
"Unfinished jizzness?" The heir attempted with a proud smile.

"... Don't even try. You suck. And my balls feel like they're about to fall off."  
Zen muttered, tugging the man back into the lounge.

Jumin contemplated this statement.

\---

1:45am  
-  
-  
-

A mute shuffling fell over the intimate space in the lounge as the door clicked on its latch.

"What did you talk about?" Zen asked.  
Only the question came out huskier than usual, gravelly and coated with lust.  
And he was too obvious because his eyes were on Jumin's mouth.

"Steak." The man answered, observing him.  
And despite his lack of empathy, he was gifted at reading people.  
And he knew what Zen wanted.

His hand lifted, sliding up the actor's neck.  
The pad of his thumb teasing along the angle of jaw and brushing delicately at an earlobe.  
An immediate response as Zen's pupils dilated.  
"... Seriously. Steak." He whispered, feeling the tingle along his nape.

"Yes."  
The heir leaned in and kissed him.  
And it was tender as that parted mouth ghosted over Zen's lower lip.  
That velvet softness coaxing his own open until a moist tongue slipped past his hot breaths and into intimate spaces.  
A soft tease that had Zen straining into him and then responding more fervently.

Jumin was insistent in his ways.  
Quick to take advantage, efficient and demanding.

A window of possibilities had opened and he was one to prey on it.  
His mouth didn't seem to tire.  
Exploring Zen with sucks and bites and stifling the man's breaths until his vision was growing white with desire and a deprivation of air.  
He tasted in every way he wanted until the actor was losing his grip on his person and this wasn't the way he wanted it.  
Zen decidedly chastised him with a shove.

A nearly inaudible grunt.  
Jumin's back landed harshly against the wall and the breath hissed out of him.

"No." The actor quipped.

The heir's body reflexively tightened in response.  
A tingle of anticipation creeping up his belly simply watching Zen lean in with the shadows snaking along the sharp planes of his attractive face.

He pressed a hand to Jumin's chest and gave him an entirely serious look.  
"We do this how I want, right?" He quietly reminded.  
It didn't matter how the light hit him, Zen was a picture of aesthetic beauty.  
That bright crimson stare was near impossible to look away from once it locked on.

Jumin felt himself stilling, pinned under it.

"I have no objections to that." Came the subtle affirmation, followed by a discreet swallow to calm his hiking pulse.  
"Since... we've both never really done this..." Zen's velvet tone ventured uncertainly with faltering breaths of his own.  
"- We'll just take things as they come... Okay?" A nervous lilt.

"I'm not worried."  
Jumin suppressed the urgency from his voice.  
But he wanted to kiss him again.  
He craved the softness of that mouth on him.

Zen's face flickered with hesitation, only a moment, before those eyes dipped vaguely towards the heir's exposed chest.

"Well, good. And I feel like I should say this, so I will. I'll do my best."  
"I like that." Came the heir's approval.

And he was growing to like this particular expression on the man's face too.  
The intensity and need despite the barest trace of conflict in his eyes.  
The tightening in his jaw and the healthy flush under those high cheekbones.

Zen's fingers pushed his shirt apart and that face finally lowered - A mouth, deceivingly chaste, pressing into his skin with a breath.  
Jumin welcomed it, sinking his spine into the cold wall.  
The velvet feel of the man's lips as it trailed sideways over the broad arch of his collarbone and kissed along his shoulder, nudging at the office shirt until it slumped down one arm.

Jumin felt teeth graze the sinews of a bicep and the heir's eyes honed in on the glimpse of pearly whites as they raked further down his pale flesh before that mouth sucked a rosy mark over the straining muscle.

All semblance of feeling began to pool around those skilful lips and the way they moved over his skin and towards his chest in tantalizing sweeps of hot breath.  
That sinful tongue licking past one pectoral and up the valley of his sternum, leaving a moist, tingling trail.

The heir's throat tightened in response, feeling sensitivity in places he'd never been aware of, the sharp prickles under his skin.  
Straining as those fingers brushed over his nipples and worried over the pink buds, squeezing in appreciation.  
The jostled hems of his shirt scraped against his length, and the combined assault caused him to harden with even more need.

"You're teasing me." Came the hitched accusation from between his teeth.  
Jumin sent the actor a sharp look.  
"It's part of the plan." Zen whispered.

And then, the man had closed the little bit of space between them.  
Jumin pressed limp against the hard surface, feeling the man's renewed touch coasting over his ribs, tracing the outlines as he breathed. And then they were descending towards the trench of his back, gripping at the clenching muscles molding his waist.

He had never been held like this, so thoroughly and with such attention.  
The heir's pulse raced with every touch and motion from those hands.  
His skin growing feverish and bringing his usual low temperature to a sudden high.

"I don't know... why you bothered to put this shirt back on..." Came the actor's distracted whisper as he lifted his chin.  
And it was instantaneous, the way those lips called out primal urges.  
Brushing against his neck and over his ear with a parted breath.

"... I'm not comfortable walking around wearing nothing."  
Jumin barely managed.

He tightened with a pleasant shiver feeling Zen nip at his earlobe in response.

He was aching with a bothersome throb of pressure in his groin.  
So unbearably hard.  
And the man hadn't even really touched him.

His breaths began to thin simply thinking about everything ahead.  
About those hands slipping even lower, touching places that craved them most.

But Jumin was a very tolerant man.  
His composure was resilient and weathered through almost anything.  
His stubbornness and even the discipline instilled in him, made him impossibly rigid.

The more Zen explored, the tighter his shoulders knotted with anticipation.

"Loosen up..." Came the gruff murmur stirring at the raven strands over his cheek.  


The heir couldn't help seizing the opportunity.  
"... I will, eventually." Came the meaningful suggestion.

Something cold pressed into the actor's side and Zen looked down.  
The man was apparently holding a thick glass bottle.

"... - What is that?"

"Lubrication. The reason why I left the lounge." Jumin answered.  
His eyes fastened to the actor's lips, seemingly hellbent on getting another taste.

"Oh." The actor's face cleared suddenly, feeling like a fool for his earlier paranoia.

 _Lubrication._  
Zen felt his face warm at the sudden plague of visuals.  
He directed his attention to the translucent, yellow-green liquid.  
"That... doesn't look like any lube I've ever seen..." He commented slowly.

"You should understand that I've never visited an adult shop or a convenience store. Unless it's within the premises of C&R, my status and reputation simply don't allow it..." Jumin patiently explained.  
"It's Olive oil. A natural alternative that has more benefits than petroleum jelly or lotion."  
He pushed away from the wall, gradually finding his bearings as his mind worked.  
"It's a relaxant, it's long lasting, it doesn't upset the PH balance of skin. It's been used for centuries precisely for this purpose, it smells fairly acceptable and I prefer the couch to the wall."

Zen's eyebrows rose hearing the drone of sudden information.

"You've thought this through."  
"I never not think things through." Jumin answered.  
He took a step forward, eyes already falling to the couch behind the man's head.

Zen had barely absorbed his words.  
And then Jumin was on him, descending with a harsh kiss he couldn't suppress anymore.

His free hand instantly reached for the actor's waist, clutching at the curve and snaking down the small of his back.  
Zen bit back a sound as Jumin assaulted his neck, biting into the bulking vein with a heated exhale.  
That hand gripping firmly at the curve of his ass and pulling him forward.  
Their hips came together and Zen suppressed another sound, feeling the all-too-intimate rub of their groins.  
The heat of their neglected members and Jumin's thigh pushing between his legs.  
And the air grew hot at just that.

Jumin's mouth was beguiling and persistent.  
And Zen was staggering back, reeling as that tongue, still tasting of wine, slipped past his teeth and plunged into his depths with merciless whorls of navigation.

It was, Zen realized with shock, a huge improvement from his earlier clumsiness.  
A superhuman learning curve.  
And god, if he continued...

He felt the man's hand tighten around his hip, reflecting his own need.  
A discreet sound of approval as Jumin experimentally rubbed against him, and it triggered the blind rush of lust that seized at Zen's body, his throat issuing an incoherent sound.

Jumin pushed into him and pushed at him, until the backs of Zen's knees snagged against white leather and they were crumpling into the couch in a messy tangle of limbs and tongues.

"Shi-..." The breath rushed out of the actor.  
"Jumin!" Came the exclaimed yelp against that insistent mouth.  
The heir broke away with a gulp of air.  
A sliver of dampness catching at the dim light, coating the corner of his lip.

He distractedly pushed the bottle over the coffee table and with both hands free began a shameless venture down Zen's stomach towards his groin.  
The actor braced on his elbows until Jumin's hands gave a rough tug to hold him back in place.  
Zen slid towards him with a clipped retort.  
... This was not part of the plan.

"Jumin, damn it. I thought we agreed-" The actor deliberately dragged out between slight pants.  
"Allow me this." Came the controlled whisper from the dark-haired man.  
"I left you for a while... it must have been uncomfortable if it's anything like mine..."  
His hands slid down Zen's waist, fingers gliding over the bulk of muscle below his navel.

"That... Well I did say my balls are about to-" Zen distractedly stuttered.

"Yes. I'm doing you a favor."  
The smile on Jumin's face was almost too obvious.

"Oh-" Zen nodded sarcastically, "I'm  _sure_  that's all it is."

And then Jumin tossed away all indignity and reached to cup him precisely where he'd mentioned.  
Zen stiffened with one leg awkwardly splayed, feeling horrified, and then torn with lust at the sudden pressure of that firm palm sliding over such sensitive parts and maybe...  
"J-... umin."

The man's fingers closed around his shaft and began an efficient pump.

Zen's body was quick to respond, flinching at the sensitivity and then gradually melting into the heir's insistent touch.  
That other hand continued to fondle from underneath, giving ample attention to what he usually neglected, and it felt different and strange, but good in its own way.  
The actor unthinkingly pushed up with a strangled sound as he felt a particularly hefty squeeze on his pair.  
Those drugged scarlet eyes widened a bare moment before they grew heavy, watching the man perform his obscene motions.  
A wavering gaze following the cords on that forearm and the ridges of tendons shifting under Jumin's skin as his hand slid and worked; puffed veins twining through solid knuckles and long, tapered fingers that were flexing with relentless tugs.  
The sight was enough to send heat rushing up Zen's neck, the red creeping under his cheeks as their eyes met.  
Jumin was studying him.

"Mm-!" His jaw clenched as the man tightened around his tip with an upward drag, letting his hard shaft squeeze out from under his grip.  
A slow hissing exhale escaped as Zen forced himself to relax.

Jumin's other palm began rubbing down in more obscene places, instigating the involuntary clench of his ass before finally kneading again over the twin bulge of soft, sensitive flesh.  
The heir began easing the pressure for him, shamelessly absorbed in his body's immediate responses.  
"I'm sure this feels pleasant..." Came Jumin's breathy voice.  
"I-....It does. Somehow." The actor dizzily answered.

"Yes. I can tell."

...  
For a brief moment, Zen wanted to shove him away and close his legs.  
It was embarrassing...  
To be touched this way,  
To respond so mindlessly and lose himself to this man.

His breaths began to hasten as Jumin pulled along the bundle of sensitive nerves, stroking his swelling member until he felt the pulsing ache merging into delicious sweeps.  
Zen couldn't stop the low sounds that instinctively pushed out of him, the slide of his hips.  
"Hnn... - Ahh ... Jumin..."  
And what his honest reactions did to Jumin...  
It was almost worth this disgrace, seeing the man look so... hungry for him.  
Twin orbs of gray glinting like fixtures in low light.  
Hands never stilling.  
Zen released another groan as a disorienting wave of pleasure rippled through him.

It...  
This... was... -  
Jumin's grip tightened.

"Oh! ...My god." Zen bit out, writhing with a need he couldn't suppress from the man.  
"Ju...- min..." A desperate breath that snagged along another, his heart climbing up his throat with every slamming thump.

Zen curled into the couch, only managing a grunt when the man pushed one thigh shamelessly against the leather to create more space for himself.

Jumin hovered there, scrutinizing the man splayed under him with sheer concentration.  
A long moment passed.  
And then the heir's touch shifted, and it was different.  
Tight and calculating, falling into an instantaneous rhythm that was not too fast or slow.  
He leaned in.  
And he was observant, eyes completely fixated. Gauging every jerk and flinch he could possibly catch.  
Evaluating, and adjusting based on Zen's responses.

The way he did this so thoroughly, leaving no room for mistakes-

"Woah, wait-" Zen gasped, seeing the heir's face descending.

Jumin's mouth closed over him.  
The warmth of a tongue and that moist cavern enveloping his engorged tip.  
Those gray eyes lowered only a brief moment before they rose to watch him.  
Zen was thoroughly flushed, his mouth falling open with the sight and the shock.  
Lips slightly damp and raw from biting as he exhaled harsh breaths.

The man licked, almost tenderly, and Zen released a lustful groan seeing that pink tongue and the barest scrape of incisors pressing over his swollen head.  
And then Jumin lowered inch by inch, taking more in until he gave a sudden and surprisingly rough suck along that ridge, causing Zen to buck with a sharp retort.  
"God, not so hard-!"  
The heir eased up with a parted smile, considering this bit of information and mentally filing it.  
And then Jumin was moving with gentler strokes, pushing his tongue and teeth down lightly over that burning shaft.  
The actor's eyelids fell shut with a throaty moan as the motion drew another tingling ripple from his groin, shooting out across his core.

That mouth, hot and moist coated him with spittle and sucked until he felt the unbearable pressure building into him, a euphoric high flooding through his body, steadily and treacherously wandering a precipice, urgently pushing something out of him.

Jumin watched the responses flitting across that face, captivated by how his actions so vividly affected this man.

Zen was boldly passionate and expressive, and Jumin had concluded.

God, he wanted Zen.  
His fiery temper, his assertiveness, the vibrancy of life that fueled him.  
His colorful words and all his honest feelings, the charisma that effortlessly drew people to him like a magnet...  
And his heart.  
Jumin wanted all of it - This man who possessed what he lacked.  
To learn Zen, slowly and thoroughly.

The actor latched on to his shoulders, gripping hard as the man's mouth gave a slow, torturous upwards suck.  
And then he lowered with a curl of tongue and took in more of Zen's engorged member, giving in to his greed to possess every bit of him.

"Really..." Zen's voice trailed off weakly.  
His muscles quivering with the assault as his nerves tingled.

Jumin didn't have the experience for it.  
But he was never the type to leave an interesting challenge unexplored.  
He took in more.  
Relaxed his pipe muscles and lowered.  
And he was almost all the way down that thick girth... when he choked.

Zen's hazy reverie was cut off to the sounds of a discreet gag, feeling the heir's throat clench on him in a dangerous way.

The actor snapped his hips back with a rough inhale, pulling out with a jerk.  
His member coming away with a string of glistening spittle.

"Jumin-" His voice struggled through the pleasure.  
"You idiot..."  
A hint of concern that went unmissed as that crimson gaze guiltily looked him over.

Jumin's composure faltered as he slowly swallowed the rawness in his throat.  
"- I'm fine." Came his calm response.  
He swiped eloquently at the corner of his lip and then sucked the sticky mess off his thumb.

"Okay, but I... can't- I mean, if you continue I won't be able to... -" Zen awkwardly attempted to finish, reddening.

"Already...?"  
The heir's eyebrows rose.

The triumphant grin on Han Jumin's face was a novel thing.  
It made Zen's chest tighten with flutters, and annoyance and...  
Why did he have to look even more attractive when he smiled like that...  
Zen couldn't help it.  
He unthinkingly swiped at the dampness over the man's chin with a scoff.

"Well, I've been needing it." He indignantly answered.  
"Okay?" A tremor that betrayed him.  
"Besides, if we plan to do this how I want it-"

"- Yes." Jumin smiled and rose as if on cue.  
"How  _you_  want it." Came the knowing murmur.  
He shrugged off his button-down and tossed it to make a point.

The look he gave Zen was either predatory or conniving.  
The actor couldn't be sure, even with his terrific gift for reading expressions.

But he had a feeling in his bones that this was all part of some grand, manipulative scheme.  
And the heir was getting exactly what he wanted.  
Before he knew what was happening, a strong grip landed on his hip and Jumin pulled his lust-drugged lower half gracelessly off the couch and on to the floor.

He landed with a thump, stunned as he whipped his head up.

"What the fuck, jerk!" He declared.  
"Move. I need to lie down and you need to stand." Came the clip of instruction.

Jumin stretched himself out behind the man.  
He gave Zen a look before straining forward to give the corner of his snarl another kiss.  
The man angled his face away with a colorful curse.

"... you didn't have to drag me like that!"

The heir lingered for a moment, studying the aggravation filling those ruby eyes.  
Even Zen's anger made him beautiful.  
Just being shown this expression, when nobody else ever dared it...

It was wrong to think it was a treat.  
But Jumin's chest warmed with something he couldn't quite identify.  
Something he'd only barely felt in some distant past when Rika was still alive.  
His dam of emotions, beginning to weather and break at this demonstration of sincerity.  
It was something that had drawn him to Rika back then. And it was something he saw thriving and alive in Zen.  
The rare encounter of brutal honesty.  


"Sorry..." Jumin began.  
Zen gave him a sideways glare.  
"I admit I'm impatient."  


"And rude." The actor snapped.

"Yes. I apologize."  
Jumin's face softened and he leaned in, giving another slower kiss at the man's ear when he made no attempt to avoid it.  
He wrapped an arm around the actor's chest feeling the thundering race of a heartbeat under his skin, the warmth of that body as it shook with irritation and the aftershocks of being teased.

Zen had a comforting smell...  
Fading citrus, freshly-hung laundry, some musky-tangy sports cologne enhanced by the male heat on his skin.  
Jumin's nose buried in the tickling silver strands, breathing him in.

"Hyun..." He purred with that smoky tone.  
Zen felt an itch in his nostrils even as a delicious shiver ran down his neck.  
"... I will call you that now, if you allow me to."  
The man bit over the actor's earlobe.

"... Fuck you, Jumin." Zen whispered, shutting his eyes as the man pressed to him.

The heir grinned against his jaw.  
"Yes, Hyun. That's the plan." Came the lighthearted answer.

Zen tore from him and shoved him back with a growl.  
"... Smug bastard." He muttered.

\---

2:31am

-  
-  
-

It occurred to the actor that Jumin wasn't completely in the dark about these things.

Maybe Seven had helped, and that book he kept quoting from in the chatroom - (was it Expert Playboy I or II) - touched up on these things...?  
Zen sped-read through most conversations.  
It was a talent.  
But he missed a few dismissive details as consequence.

Maybe Jumin managed somehow to find the time to read and learn outside his chaotic work schedule.  
... Though, why he'd choose to devote his preciously limited time to learning things like this.  
Zen wasn't even gonna think about it.

The actor could only watch as the heir immediately began plucking the pillows around him and stacking them, scrutinizing his arrangement and then obsessively adjusting the gaps between each one.  
Twice he swapped pillows because the misaligned patterns bothered him.  
And then another few seconds were spent listening to the heir's dislike for diagonal stripes and excessive prints and how it directly correlated with stress levels.  
It was unnecessary... and unnecessarily kind of cute how the man's nostrils flared as he clicked his tongue in annoyance, fussing over one particular pillow.  
Though Zen would never admit that to Jumin because he was still kind of irritated.

And then the man was pulling away with a furrowed brow, looking his work over with obsessive scrutiny.  
"Are you done?" The actor smirked.

"It's good to be prepared before we begin." Jumin casually said, sitting beside the stack.  
"... That... sounds like something you'd say for work." Zen teased.  
"Only... you will be doing more of it." Came the response.

And then Jumin had lain himself over the stack, adjusting slightly so his groin was angled higher than the rest of his spine.

"Hyun, get the oil."

Apparently, being a boss was default mode even in this particular situation.  
The pompous bastard.  
Zen wanted to defy every bit of that corporate BS attitude even if it was just for fun.  
Jumin teased him enough in the chatroom, and it was payback time.

"No."  
"What?"

"What if that's not what I want?"  
The actor carefully masked his teasing with a grim face.

Jumin blinked at him.

"Not what you want?" He slowly repeated, as if it was a foreign language.  
He bent at an odd angle, watching Zen with an owlish expression.  
And he looked almost ridiculous, if the rest of him wasn't so damn beautiful.

"Yeah. I don't really like how oil feels, it's desensitizing if it isn't water-based..."  
Zen issued a convincingly heavy sigh.

Jumin had that look on him, the slightly widened eyes coupled with that frown as he struggled to comprehend something unexpected.  
"I see..." He trailed off after a while.  
The actor had to flatten his lips to stop himself from cracking.

Jumin's eyes wandered sideways, entirely lost in thought before flitting back to him.  
"It's sudden. But do you think I should have a medical team on standby?"

 _Seriously._  
Zen stared for a moment, and then the ridiculous question caused a full round of laughs to push out of him.  
"A-... A medical... - team... on standby... for your ass?" He stuttered.  
The actor shoved Jumin's knee away with hiccups of mirth.

"To ass-...ess my condition." The heir dryly joked.  
Jumin watched the actor give in to another bout of uncontrollable chortles until he was grasping at his stomach and keeling over.  
"This... This is... not right-" Zen managed with sharp gasps for breath.

"You were joking..."

"Of course I was. Oh... my god." Zen moaned and rubbed at his face.  
"I've got a boner that's about to explode and I'm laughing so much it's beginning to hurt."

"Then the oil is perfect." Jumin looked at him.  
"I'm not convinced." Zen smirked, stifling his sounds with a finger.

"It's Extra Virgin Olive Oil."  
There was something about the flat drop of that voice that made it even funnier.

"... Just - stop...!" The actor griped as his shoulders quaked.  
"What." Jumin finally chuckled.  
"Your jokes are bad!"  
Zen gave his arm another shove.

"You're laughing."

They looked at each other.  
And then Zen raised the bottle and flicked at it.  
"Isn't this really expensive?"  
"... Not a cheap ass." Jumin quipped flatly.

Laughing was painful.  
"Oh... God, my boner..." Came the airy squeeze mingling with a moan.

"I also have the ambulance on speed dial."  
"Medical team for your ass, ambulance for my boner..." Zen trailed off.  
"V might actually show up." He winked.

A laugh from Jumin.

No, this night was not - at all - going the way they were expecting.

\--

2:55am

-  
-  
-

They did eventually get to it after the laughter died down.  
A moment of silence passed with their lingering smiles.  
And then Jumin sighed and wound an arm around Zen's hip, pressing into his thigh with a kiss.

"Get the bottle." He mumbled into skin.  
Zen rolled his eyes and snorted.

.  
.

"God, this night is just... not going the way I expected."  
Zen shook the olive oil again and inspected the small bubbles rising to the surface.  
"But you don't dislike it..." Jumin said, splaying out and tilting sideways at him.  
The actor angled and gave him a look.

"... No."

"And you don't dislike me."  
Jumin's gray eyes swept over him with more seriousness.

"I said I don't." Zen finally whispered, looking away.  
Then, he took a breath, watching the bottle without really seeing it.

His mouth opened to speak.  
"... Actually, Jumin... I..." Came the ventured murmur.  
He glanced at the heir just as the man was switching his phone to silent.

Jumin lowered his Blackberry and gave a trademark empty stare.  
"... Yes?"

Something in that barren look had his instincts retreating.  
And Zen felt the words die in his throat.

He bit hard at his inner cheek and then finally shook his head, ponytail briefly whipping.  
"... Nevermind." He smiled mirthlessly.  
"It's not really that important right now."

He squeezed the cork off the bottle and sat next to Jumin.  
"Just try to relax."

The man inspected him for a moment.  
"Okay."

A few droplets glazing his palm, which he lathered on himself to sample.  
And then another generous amount, he then rubbed around Jumin's semi-flaccid member.  
It took some time and more oil, coating the man until he was slick to the touch.

Jumin quickly warmed to it.  
His gray eyes lowering to watch those slim fingers sensually gliding over the ridged veins of his cock.  
And then he was reaching for Zen's nape, instinctively wanting him closer.  
Watching that face and that mouth as the man began to pump him.  
His fingers tightened over those silver locks as Zen continued, rousing his aching shaft until it grew visibly hard and physically painful.

"Hyun..." Came the harsh murmur.  
His hand raked down the man's short strands and snagged into that ponytail, pulling it loose.  
He looked like he couldn't take any more of the delays.  
His breaths falling slightly short and the desperation evident in his eyes.  
Zen watched his mouth barely parting with things his dignity couldn't allow him to say.

A far cry from the executive director in a three-piece suit.  
Zen had never seen him look like this.  
Enraptured, panting and limp with his silken locks falling across his heavy-lidded eyes.  
It was dangerously appealing, the way the man almost screamed of vulnerability.

The man squeezed at his neck and Zen finally complied, lowering to meet that parted mouth as his fingers tangled into flaxen spikes.  
The actor gave slow, exploratory kisses, enjoying the way the heir softened under him without an ounce of his earlier coarseness.  
And it was somehow different this time.  
The way his tempered touch wandered along Zen's skin, as if he were savoring the feel of him and leisurely admiring every curve and dip.

Zen enjoyed it, reaching a hand between them and rolling playfully over the man's erection.  
Running his palm against the arch and earning a few deliberately thorough kisses from Jumin as a reward.  
And then he was easing an equally slow trail up the man's stomach, conjuring low spikes and tingles, wanting to feel every other bit of the heir's regal torso.

It was an agonizing and frustrating thing to do to him right now, Jumin begrudgingly thought.  
And it was most likely intentional because the man enjoyed teasing him a little too much.

A few more moments of it and Jumin's impatience was beginning to burn through.  
The heir pushed into his touch, his hips rising in silent demand for more contact.

His hand closed around Zen's arm, tugging him sideways until the actor finally gave in and slipped into the welcome space between his legs.

The pillows stacked underneath tilted Jumin's hips up in offering.  
And it was a wonderful idea, Zen noted.  
Because when he positioned himself and finally eased forward, balancing on his arms, their groins met in near perfect alignment.

"It's just right." The actor admitted.  
"Expert Playboy II." Jumin answered in a strangely breathless whisper.

All the teasing had possibly undone him or worn him out to some extent.  
The man was looking too ravishing for his own good.

Zen planted his arms and descended on that broad, supple body with hard kisses, unable to resist.  
He nipped along the lower areas near the man's ribs and pressed careful sucks across his paleness as his lungs expanded with slow breaths.  
The heat on Jumin's skin radiated off him bringing the smell of leather and dark wood, musk and spilled semen.

Jumin smelled expensive, Zen absently thought.  
And horny.

He scraped his teeth over a nipple and latched on to it, licking at the hardening nub until Jumin's hands were digging into his sides with renewed fervor.  
His breathing fell hitched between his teeth as he sent him a depraved stare.

"I guess you like that." The actor pulled away with a grin.  
"You're taking too long." Came the clipped mumble that squeezed out of the man.

"Nothing wrong with that, right...?"

Zen ran his tongue over the other nipple, swirling its circumference before he bit down.  
The heir ejected a grunt and what could have been a curse.  
"You're used to sleeping on the plane." The actor mused, lifting away from his jerking chest to look at him.  
Jumin's eyes were glazed over beneath his half-mast lids.  
"That's not the point." His voice was thick and low.

"What is the point?"  
Zen grinned wider, pressing down on him.

The actor moved his hips.  
And he found found a certain satisfaction seeing Jumin's expression falter, then.  
Enjoying this small game of one-upping they'd managed to carry on through the night.

Jumin gripped to his shoulder blades as those sinful hips began to rub a delicious friction between them.  
The olive oil sliding along his feverish skin and warming with the building temperature amidst Zen's torturously slow thrusts.  
The honey-consistency glazing over their stomachs in smears as their members slid together, hard and throbbing.  
It was almost too good at this point.  
Jumin's breaths hastened, and his eyes closed taking in the profound sense of feeling that had gathered far too long in suspension and was only now beginning to unravel.

The actor watched, and his insides clenched seeing the man's face twist in urgency.  
Jumin was beautiful...  
And he was going to take him.

His lips latched on to the man's hot skin.  
A never ending need to taste him.  
His pliable mouth molding little bites over Jumin's collar, leaving relentless love-driven marks over the tender skin of that neck as he worked his way up.

The heir wore his business shirts with all the buttons fastened anyway.  
And hickeys were a normal part of adult-living weren't they?  
Only the man wasn't really someone to be considered 'normal,' so there was that...

He wasn't thinking straight.  
And Jumin was far too quiet again.

"If you don't tell me what you want..." Zen's voice fell over his tightening jaw.  
"- Then... I'll just keep doing what  _I_  want. How about it?"  
Zen nipped a particularly sensitive area behind Jumin's lobe and the heir felt his inner restraint beginning to snap as those hips dragged with emphasis on him.

"No response?" Zen breathed.  
The actor pinned their members together and ground with circular sweeps.  
And god, Jumin's cock felt so hard on his stomach.  
The thought tore the pleasure from Zen and he pressed a moan into the man's ear.

"Damn it, Hyun..." Jumin whispered, feeling his stomach tighten at the sound.  
His control dissolved with a tripping heartbeat.

Jumin angled sideways then, catching roughly at that mouth as Zen continued to rock into him with teasing nudges.  
Zen's voice, and his smell, and the supple curves of that beautiful body...  
God, he wanted everything.  
Jumin braced his feet against the couch's armrest, finding the leverage needed to move.  
And then he was pushing his cock roughly up at Zen's lower stomach, enhancing the contact and the rub of carnal flesh.  
The actor gave a murmur of approval, gripping at the man's jaw until he angled.  
And then he snatched those breaths with a torrid, rousing kiss.

The heir couldn't take much more of it.

Jumin freed his hands, stubbornly pulling those hips into him.  
Controlling Zen's ferocious grind against his heated skin, trying to meet his own flaring desperation.  
The slickness of the oil pushed between their stomachs, their members deliciously harassed with stimulation and swelling.  
And then Jumin was instinctively moving.  
His body starting its first rough, measured thrusts, syncing somehow with Zen's own motions in an inexperienced but entirely mind-blowing way.

"Jumin...!" Zen almost choked.  
The man's fingers lowered and dug mercilessly into the sides of his ass, forcing him into a steadily increasing rhythm that felt so profound Zen almost couldn't breathe.

"Not enough..." Came the harsh whisper under him.  
"More, Hyun..."  
Jumin was panting the words.  
"You're too... slow... Hyu-"

Zen bit at the heir's mouth to shut him up, pushing sharply against him and complying.  
Their hips meshing together and their cocks growing slippery.  
A mix of sticky fluid and olive oil and the sounds of clipped breaths and groans, and discreet slaps of thighs.

"H...yun..."

Jumin's grip tightened over his flesh, his breaths constricting between bared teeth.  
Those eyes fell shut, giving in to the sudden rise of pleasure climbing up his spine.  
And Zen pulled away, watching the pained expression on his face.  
Wondering if he'd ever hear the man utter a mindless cry.

Perhaps Jumin simply didn't work that way.

Zen preferred more vocal appreciation, as was the case in whatever he did.  
Though he didn't mind this at all.  
The pained look on the man's face as he struggled was enough for Zen to completely lose it.

And, ironically, this was bad.  
Because Zen was getting what he wanted... much too quickly.

A thrum of pleasure had started to unravel, building with every mindless, bucking move.  
It started slow and instantaneously picked up, squeezing throaty moans from him as he buried into the man's shoulder.

And it grew hard to suppress anything at all as they both found the perfect motion that complemented their needs.  
Until Zen was mindlessly whispering his appreciation in small murmurs along Jumin's jaw.

"God, this feels good... Oh, god... I had no idea it was like _this_..."  
Bitten statements that tumbled out of him.  
"Yes... Jumin. Yes, again. Better. Just like that..."

The heir listened to that velvet hoarseness.  
His mind was swimming with building pleasure.  
Perhaps, he would have said something back...  
But Zen had suddenly muttered a particularly colorful word.

And then the actor stopped moving all together.

"What are you doing?"  
Jumin's voice was breathless, but more annoyed now than anything.

The actor pushed himself up with shuddering pants.  
Those silver bangs strewn candidly across his forehead and eyes.  
He was heaving, mouth pink and glossed from abusive bites.  
It was appealing.

The heir took in his exquisitely disheveled look before his eyes descended to the glistening sheen on the man's stomach and that stiff member barely nudging at his thigh.  
A shudder went through his insides, seeing that tip smear a foreign streak along his skin.

"What we should do before it's too late." Zen tore out.  
And then he was reaching sideways for the Olive Oil.

"Hhh, finally."  
Despite his ragged inhales, Jumin almost managed to sound exasperated.  
He took a small pride in that.

"I believe you should time these things." He pointedly added.  
"Shut up, Jumin." Came the whispered tremor.  
"I really don't need this right now, besides didn't you contribute?"

Jumin observed him from behind a half-mast stare.  
And the heir immediately knew.  
Whatever talked back at him now was just a defense mechanism.

Zen bore that same look on his face from earlier.  
His eyes studying the bottle before looking down at him.  
Another internal battle between hesitation and primal urge.

Zen leaned over the couch, steadying his breaths with closed eyes.  
"Give me a second to calm down. I'm seriously about to burst."

No matter how much Jumin told him he wanted it.  
And no matter how much the man responded with his body.  
And even if he desired nothing more right now than to finish himself off deep inside him... Zen's concerns surfaced again and again because he just couldn't help it.

By nature, he was somewhat a worry-wart.  
It was a common occurrence, losing sleep over someone else's plight.

This unconventional way of being intimate was unfamiliar territory.  
And a part of him didn't want to end up hurting the man.

 _Especially because he has a business trip in a few hours._  
_Jesus, what if he can't walk straight... Isn't that how it is?_

And yet, Zen wanted it.

His eyes opened.  
He badly, desperately wanted to claim Jumin.  
Selfishness clawed to the surface, filling his crimson stare with palpable lust as he directed his gaze to the man splayed beneath him.

Jumin was flushed down to his neck.  
And his gray eyes, though heavy, bore patience and acceptance for anything.  
If the man felt anything like he did, he wouldn't want to end it like this.  
After everything that passed between them...  
\- anything less than what they'd agreed on seemed laughable.

Zen steadied his breathing, trying to calm the thrash of his heart.  
"You'll be okay?" Came the actor's question as he leaned into the couch.  
"I'll be fine." Jumin answered shortly.

And that was that.

"Okay, spread your legs."  
Zen's voice came out hoarse.  
Jumin's eyes darkened and he propped his knees and opened without an ounce of shame.

In everything he did, once his mind was made up the man surged without batting an eye.  
Zen's pulse was thrumming against his throat, the nervousness and anticipation gripping at his nerves as the body below him unwound like an invitation.

He tipped the bottle and noticed the tremor in his hands as he palmed the oil.  
He'd had worse jitters backstage during the bigger productions.  
But this wasn't anything mild either.

Maybe, it just felt this way when he made reckless decisions like this.

He knew the consequences.  
To his career, to Jumin's.  
In a country like theirs, with a culture that thrived on image and reputation...  
\- It was practically suicide.

And he was a fool to convince himself that Jumin didn't know this.  
The man did, and he was still here.  
Zen's chest squeezed.

Jumin was a member of the RFA.  
He spread those pert cheeks apart and lathered the gap with oil.

Jumin.  
The man he hated and bickered with and maybe, just maybe... acknowledged as a friend after all.  
His finger touched at that intimate rim of entry and the heir reflexively clenched.

"Relax." Zen murmured.

Jumin was someone who brought strong feelings he couldn't categorize.  
And at this point the actor just couldn't take it back anymore.

If the heir simply moved on after tonight...  
If he just decided to flick that emotional switch like he did with most everyone and anything...  
Zen already knew.  
He would wither without him.

The actor slowly pushed an inch of his finger in, and for a moment he thought it was impossible to fit anything bigger when he met with such tight resistance.

_Jumin..._

Those gray eyes watched him.  
The moment was bittersweet.  
And it didn't make logical sense because of how much he could lose...  
But Zen would risk it.  
He was a romantic, after all.

His eyes lowered, breaking away from that steely gaze.

That's what romantics did, confusing their brains and their emotions.  
Being overly dramatic and irrational.  
... That's what Jumin would say.

He pushed some more, taking care to move gently.  
As soon as the second appendage of his finger was in, the heir tensed considerably.  
His lips working into a concentrated frown as if he were mentally preparing for a shower of paperwork.

"Jumin, you're too anal."  
A stupid joke he badly wished matched Jumin's odd humor.  
"Didn't I say relax?"  
A breathless laugh as he swallowed his nervousness.

The man wordlessly obeyed then, his overall composure slowly going limp as the actor began steadily working the digit into him.  
The endeavor wasn't entirely smooth, a few flinches of that body spoke of pain.  
But Jumin accepted it without a single utterance of complaint, or any sound really.

He was quiet.  
Disconcertingly quiet.

More oil and the heir was surprisingly stretching to accommodate another digit.

Zen watched his face for signs of discomfort.  
But Jumin remained impressively unreadable save for a slight tensing of his shoulders every time the actor deepened the contact.

"Mm... You're doing good so far." Zen generously praised.  
"This might be okay after all..." He continued, trying to distract the heir.  
"Not that it wasn't going to be! I didn't mean it like that... Okay. Good. One last push, just a bit more, almost there."

Finally, Jumin closed his eyes and ejected a snort.  
Zen watched that small smile and felt his heart give a short squeeze of relief in response.

"You make it sound like I'm giving birth." He said.

The tension in the moment dissolved and Zen lost it with another round of laughs.

-

After a few experimental moves aimed at loosening entry... something began to change.  
It started when Zen, by chance, hit a special spot.

The heir gave a sharp inhale and the man knew then, feeling the internal clench that gripped at his fingers, refusing to let go.  
He pushed again, higher.  
And even if Jumin said nothing, the jolted look on his face told the man everything.

He eased into the upward motion and the man's rigid composure finally began to crumble like a slow erosion.  
His face and his body slipping bit by bit to reveal something more private and real.

Jumin's eyelids closed and his eyebrows pushed up as the foreign pleasure, deeper, more complete than anything, seized his whole body, bringing out the fierce heat on his cheeks.

No, it had never felt like this.

The immensity pushing into his stomach, mingling with the burning pain.  
It crippled Jumin as the feelings washed out in warm waves and weakened his limbs.  
And with every nudge, something was winding tighter, threatening to burst.  
He wanted it.  
His mouth parted in a soundless moan as he arched, raven hair falling across the white interior like a flaming black crown.

Zen watched as the man's tenacious armor melt away.  
It was like he'd hit a switch... and the actor didn't hesitate to abuse it.

His fingers entered and curled, slowly at first until the man underneath began to welcome the intrusion and Zen boldly picked up the pace.

Spikes of sharp pleasure started like segmented pulses.  
And then they rippled and merged, shooting out like white heat.  
It didn't take long until Jumin was straining with involuntary twitches and quivers.  
His stomach winding so tightly the muscles ridged against his skin.

A bare moment passed and he was ejecting faint sounds that barely made it past his chest.  
His fingers gripping into the couch, digging into the leather as the feeling grew and snowballed, and then became short of intolerable.

His hips pushed into Zen's hand with urgency.  
And then the man gasped his name as his chin tipped.  
"Hyun..."  
And another, louder.  
"God...!"

Zen wanted to grab the syllable and all the desperation thrown into it.  
To burn it into his mind, to replay again and again.

He watched and he shook with need for this man.

The limits for his tolerance cruelly tested when Jumin began to respond.  
Pushing down into Zen's fingers reluctantly at first, and then with more honesty as he decidedly tossed his pride and reached for the man's wrist, taking those fingers deeper into him.  
Zen was bewitched, entirely seduced by this man, with his look of frustration and the barest hints of pleasure as he seemingly struggled for something just out of reach.

Jumin gave his hand a sharp tug that shoved his digits all the way in before he seized with a shuddering breath.  
Zen felt those inner walls tighten, taking his stomach along with it.

And then, the actor saw it - A glistening bead leaking out over the slit of that cock until it spilled, trickling down one side.  
The heir gasped, gripping his wrist so hard it hurt.  
But seeing the look on Jumin's face...  
_That_ shattered his control.

The monster in him tore away from its restraints and Zen pulled his fingers out, eyes glazed with aroused hunger.  
He pried Jumin's cheeks apart and pressed his aching tip over that pulsing rim of muscle.  
And with the slight tremble in his fingers he eased himself in, giving in to his body's incessant demands.  
He blindly pushed, a raw moan ripping from his throat as Jumin's insides clamped down on him with a vice hold.

It was only then the heir let out a sharp cry.  
It drove away cloudy instincts and jolted Zen from his lust.

"Nn."  
Jumin was quick to recover, forcing slow breaths from his nose.  
And there was something different as those eyebrows drew down, the way the man refused to meet his gaze, and how he bore it all with a hardened jaw.  
A look that told Zen the man was dealing with a very real pain.

"Is it bad?"  
A stupid question, though he felt it needed to be asked.  
"It's not an issue worth addressing. It's fine." The heir's voice strained.

He didn't look fine.  
Zen was worried now.  
He wasn't even halfway in.  
"Jumin..."  
It came out guilty.  
"Seriously, are you alri-"  
"I'm fine."

"Are you having second thoughts?" Zen persisted.

"What are you talking about?" The heir sent him a stubborn look.  
"I never back out of something once I've committed to it. This is no different."

The actor sighed, brushing away the feverish ache.  
"It makes a world of difference, Jumin. God, I know I haven't exactly been the nicest person, but I don't want to hurt you. Maybe we shouldn't-"

"- Tell me, Hyun..." He swiftly interrupted.  
"Do you shake someone's hand only to walk away?"

Zen's eyes narrowed.  
And suddenly he was feeling a familiar flare of irritation.  
Why did the man always have to liken any situation to work?  
If it came to someone's personal wellbeing, to this kind of relationship... to  _emotion_  it was entirely different.

"Damn it, Jumin. We aren't... This isn't a business deal, y'know."  
"No, it's not." Jumin confirmed.  
Despite the discomfort, his eyes hardened.  
"But this is a commitment." He said.

"A commitment." Zen hesitantly repeated.  
And for a moment he saw something significant in Jumin's eyes as they swept over his face.  
"Yes... Do you understand, Hyun?" He asked, more quietly.  
"I am committing myself to you."

Zen's throat tightened hearing the low breath of words.  
His crimson eyes studied the man, feeling a strange surge of emotion flood his chest.

"Jumin..." He started.  
"- Will you do the same?" The heir asked.  
"That... I mean, yes... Obviously." Zen struggled to fight the heat assaulting his face.

With an impatient exhale, the man grappled for his hips.  
"Then continue."

"It's just... I said I'd do my best. God, if this is too much, I just think... With your business trip and all... A-!"

A surprisingly strong yank at his waist, and the heir took in all of him.

Zen swore, lurching forward against the couch.  
Their bodies were joined, his hips locking over Jumin's and his cock burying deep into the man's core.  
Being in a man, like this...  
It was like nothing Zen had ever experienced.

For a moment, he was too scared to move.  
That entrance felt like it couldn't bear any more of an invasion.

Jumin's mouth tightened, those gray eyes narrowing until they were mere slits of onyx.  
"Don't refuse me, and don't doubt me." He evenly said.  
"I don't like it."

"Jerk, I was being careful..." Came Zen's weak reply.  
He grimaced, struggling with his own thoughts and the tremors in his body.  
Jumin was so impossibly tight, and the actor was still worried, and a part of him wanted to instinctively defy the man, even now.

Despite all that... Something momentous seemed to fall into place right then.  
There wasn't another way to put it.

Even if they clashed in more ways than he could count, Zen's heart was swelling with something it couldn't contain and he wanted nothing more than this man.

It was confusing...  
When they couldn't see eye to eye on almost everything...  
For him to be so attracted to Jumin...

"I'm... sorry. I got carried away."  
It was all Zen could manage.

"The chapter on 'How to be a good lover' says it gets better." The heir quipped.  
"... What have you been reading?" Zen mumbled weakly.  
"I'll tell you another time." Jumin hastened, grasping at his nape.

Zen's eyebrows lowered and he moved, uncertain at first, his spine at an incline.  
Burrowing and withdrawing, with only the tightening of that body under him to tell him if he was doing it right.

"... How is it?"  
"... Tolerable."

Zen's flaxen eyebrows fell.  
"I... wonder if we need more oil..."  
"No. Distract me. Come here."

And then Jumin was pulling him down, straining to meet the actor's mouth.  
Their lips met with warm breaths as the heir's arms wound under his, holding at his shoulders.

Zen was buried deep enough that he felt the tiniest spasms of reaction from the man.

An amateur, sloppy, irreplaceable first for them both.  
And it was intimate, more intimate than anything Zen ever had.  
Jumin's skin straining against his.  
The heat emanating between them.  
The brush of their noses and their hastening heartbeats.  
Their mouths and their tongues tasting each other.

Gradually, the heir began to relax, taking in more until the actor had filled him to the hilt.  
And it didn't take long for Zen to find a comfortable pace, grinding into the man as those legs hiked up his ribs.

Gravity did the rest, pushing the heir's thighs back with every careful thrust, allowing Zen's lower half to rub against the straining shaft between them.  
He lifted slightly, scrutinizing the man underneath with concern.

But Jumin's eyes were squeezed shut, marring his face with a bittersweet expression that Zen found alluring in all its concentration.

... He was beautiful.  
Zen traced Jumin's cheek, brushing strewn, damp locks from the heir's face as his eyes vaguely opened.

"Jumin..." He whispered.  
And he felt the weight of other thoughts trying to spill out in words.  
But he couldn't find the right ones.

His entire person felt like it was about to burst.

Jumin seemed to see this. His face shifted into his touch.  
The feel of that soft mouth as it brushed at his thumb.  
The partially exhausted look now in his sidelong gaze.  
Jumin drew his teeth and gently bit at the appendage, curling his moist tongue over the roughened pad like he would a delectable morsel.  
Zen dipped his finger into the man's mouth as he continued his thrusts and Jumin obediently sucked.

Oh, God.  
God damn it.  
Zen's scarlet eyes narrowed and his control shattered faster than a crumbling house of cards.

He pulled his thumb away and fastened his grip to the side of the man's head, burying his fingers into Jumin's soft, dark strands.  
"Clearly, you like that. I'll take note." The heir huskily teased.

"Mmm." The actor hummed, eyeing him.  
"Maybe I'll admit it if you do it again." He nudged that face to him, claiming that mouth and pushing in to him with more deliberate shoves, earning a low sound in return.

With every dip, his weight pressed down more over Jumin's hard ridge.  
His abdominals sliding over the fleshy, bulging tip, drawing out an aching sweetness.  
All the while, Zen's mouth demanded the man's participation.  
Nudging at the heir until the latter began to slacken against the persistent kisses.  
Soon, Jumin was unable to respond as his mind completely blanked, the pleasure seizing him.

"Hyun..." Jumin's eyes squeezed shut.  
"That." An urgent gasp as his spine bent back.  
Those hands dug hard into the actor's waist, pulling incessantly until he followed.  
And Zen found himself wanting to satisfy the man.  
Just to hear that voice trickle into the spaces between them.

He gradually increased the pace and depth until the man was roiling against him with labored breaths, a look of dire need evident on his face.

Jumin was beginning to enjoy it very much.

"How is it now?" The actor teasingly bit at his ear.  
"This... is fine." Came the shuddering breath against his cheek.

" _Fine_?!" Zen met the heavy-lidded gaze.  
"C'mon. I can tell it's better than 'fine'... Look at you."

_Was it that hard to earn a compliment?_

"Hm." Came the squeezed sound.  
Zen thought he saw a smile.

The actor scoffed.

He locked his forearms under those shoulders and pulled the man's chest up, lowering to give ample kisses to his heated skin.  
And the air grew significantly even warmer as the breaths between them tumbled out.  
The heat pooling in their bellies and the beads of sweat dampening their disheveled bangs and streaking along their skin.

And god, it was hot inside Jumin.

Zen gradually succumbed to the delicious sensation of being gripped and sheathed, his movements becoming purposeful and insistent.  
And he wanted more.  
To bring back what he'd previously seen -  
The expression of sheer abandon on Jumin's face that he couldn't get out of his mind.

The actor tried, not without difficulty, to find the special spot in him that triggered it.  
He angled himself, prodding at the inner wall that mercilessly tightened for him.  
Until he pushed into Jumin at a specific incline and a small sound escaped the man's throat, his eyes snapping open suddenly alert.

"Oh...? I think I found it."  
Zen smiled in victory.

A slight pause.  
"Mm." Jumin vaguely managed.  
"Mm... what?" Came the sly velvet voice.  
"Yes. Move."  
"... Really. That's it? 'Yes, move'?"

Jumin gave him an annoyed look.  
"Move or I will force you out and take charge."

Zen gave a snort, even as the barest smirk played on his face.  
"... Jumin, you should tell me when you like it."  
"You already know, evidently." The man closed his eyes.  
"I do... But I want your acknowledgement." Zen whispered as he leaned in.

Jumin bucked impatiently and the actor grinned, caving to his demands.

C&R's corporate director was a stubborn child...  
Zen found himself wanting to tear down that front of his.

The heir was only vaguely caught off guard when Zen's mouth roughly fell on his.  
That insistent tongue pried his seams apart, swiping inside to take the breaths from him, teasing over his own appendage with an expert tangle that made Jumin dizzy...

And excited...  
_Is 'excited' the right term?_  He vaguely questioned.

And then Zen's hips had surged up, impaling him so suddenly and completely that Jumin's mind lost all semblance of thought.  
He buckled with a grunt as a sharp, sweet heat crippled him.  
"Don't just keep it in, Jumin..." Came the harsh whisper.  
Before he could respond, Zen had rammed into his prostate again.  
The breaths left the heir as his demeanor came apart.  
He pressed his legs tight into the man's ribs, shaking as his member gave a dangerous twitch.

"Tell me you like what I'm doing to you..." Zen's mouth pressed to his ear.  
The heir gave a grunt and nipped at the man's jaw in response, earning a pained groan.

Something kept Jumin from saying anything.  
Perhaps it was whatever little dignity he had left.  
Perhaps because he always tolerated, suffered and celebrated in silence.

"Tell me..."  
Zen pried Jumin's hand from his hip, pinning it over the man's head.  
And then he pulled away, denying the man his mouth.

Jumin sent him an irritated, slightly defiant look.

It quickly crumbled with the next thrust.  
And the next.  
The look on Zen's face stubborn with intent as they locked eyes.  
The steady canting of his hips pushed again and again into that sensitive spot until Jumin couldn't grasp at anything at all and he finally broke the stare with a look of aggravation, tossing his head back.

"I want to know just how much..." Zen urged, leaning in.  
"You're holding back... Stop holding back from me..." Came the edging desperation in his tone.

Jumin's chest tightened and he helplessly quivered. Zen couldn't stand it.  
He gave in, kissing at the trickle of sweat trailing down Jumin's adam's apple.  
Running a tongue up that throat as another collapsed breath tumbled out of the man.  
Zen's internal makings were coiling tighter.  
The pleasure building into his muscles and bones and intensifying as Jumin's entrance squeezed involuntarily, gripping his straining shaft into its recesses.

The actor pushed out a loud moan and buried in the man's shoulder as he throbbed.  
"You're so damn quiet. Talk to me -... God, talk!"  
A groan that ended in an almost exasperated whine. Something awakened in Jumin, hearing that tone.  
His tangled threads - the indistinguishable mess he struggled to understand.  
The floodgate of emotion bursting open with the ripples of pain and the mind-numbing pleasure.

"Stupid, if you need me to confirm-" Jumin bit out.  
"Well, you need to express yourself more!" Zen grunted back.  
"- Yes." The man finally said, looking at him. "I feel I'm going crazy. Everything you're doing is driving me crazy. I've never felt anything like this... Wanted anything... like this..." His voice shook with surprising weight.

Zen pulled away with a triumphant look, and then a foreign tenderness replaced it.  
"Good, that's it. I'm really happy to hear that." He murmured, a trickle of sweat coasting down his temple.

The transition of expressions was impactful, and Jumin might have understood then why Assistant Kang found such joy simply watching him act.

"So happy, in fact..." Zen lowered, "- that I'll give you a reward." A sudden change of tone.  
The radiant smile twisted into a naughty smirk.  
Jumin was entirely impressed by the stellar shift.

Zen untangled his arms.  
And then he was running a hand over the bulk of Jumin's leg.

He gripped the man's knee and brought the limb down sideways, holding his thigh flat against the couch with a palm.  
And then he raised himself at an incline and began easing in with long, steady thrusts.

The position allowed even better leverage to trigger that spot, Jumin realized.  
A particularly hard thrust had him wrenching with a breath and gripping to the leather.  
"Oh..." The bare sound unthinkingly came out of him.

Zen seemed pleased at that.  
He propped Jumin's other leg against his chest, letting the limb dangle over his shoulder.

With a sharp push from the man, the heir was releasing another sound, feeling that hardness angling into his stomach with a different kind of pleasure that brought small sparks of feeling into his nerves.

And then Zen was moving.  
The ripple of muscles on that torso, straining and twitching with every buck.  
Jumin's eyes soaked in that chiseled frame and those lean hips shoving into him.  
Zen's fingers digging into the leg on his chest and his mouth angling sideways, brushing and sucking at the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

He looked at the heir with a fevered gaze, sinking his teeth into the muscle with a groan.

"Hyun-" Jumin's voice wedged.  
Zen's other hand snaked down his hip, ghosting feather-light over his throbbing length.  
That palm sliding up the bulking ridge and over the swollen, glistening tip, until Jumin was visibly quivering from need.

The heir could barely tolerate it when that hand finally gripped at him, working a rapid progression of tugs.  
Tightening its hold as the man continued his powerful plunges.  
It was too much, too fast.  
The pleasure gripping his body and filling his mind.  
He vaguely heard Zen gasp his name.  
The man slammed into him and Jumin lost himself.  
His mind and his body combusting and melting.

The feeling thrummed into him, spiking sharply at his groin, shooting up his spine in paralyzing tingles, spreading out over every firing nerve in his body until he was bending like a beam under Zen's ruthless ministrations, hearing the urgent groans of the man above.

Until audible sighs and throaty sounds began to come out of him.  
And then short moans as the man brought him closer to that agonizing precipice.  
Bit by bit he was coming apart, his member a sopping mess of leaks in Zen's palm.

"God, Hyun... God...-" Came the snag of breaths.  
Jumin's eyes fell shut, shattered in the throes of mindless pleasure as he released a long, low moan.  
The sound painfully sweet and wracked with feeling as it pushed up his chest, punctuating the air.

His cock pulsed and leaked pitifully into the gaps of Zen's fingers, but the actor hardly noticed.  
His pulse was slamming into his ears seeing the corporate heir lose all his composure, hearing him voice his need.  
And he was immensely turned on by it, and clouded by this delicious feeling.  
He almost came just watching it.

And Jumin wasn't finished, he realized, eyeing the man's glistening and partially-erect cock.  
The man was blindly tugging at his arm and spreading his legs unabashedly, and Zen landed over him, feverish and needing.  
Jumin pushed up, meeting his thrusts, his mouth fiercely claiming the actor with bruising kisses.  
He held down Zen's spine until the man's belly was rubbing against his member and the pleasure had picked up where it left off.

His insides gripped the actor tightly with its unyielding jerks and clenches...  
And...  
"Jumin... Oh, God I- can't... anymore..." Came the disjointed whisper from Zen.

Jumin felt the tightening coil in him respond, the heightening urge for release that began to push him over an invisible cliff.  
Their breaths discordant and panting, their skin slick with sweat.  
And the man above him, burying roughly into the side of his neck, saying his name over and over again into his ear like a desperate chant as their hips fiercely moved.

"I... can't." Zen wrenched with a gasp, his head pushing up.  
Jumin caught it then.  
The pale strands clinging to his sweaty brow, those eyes closing and his face reflecting everything he was feeling.  
The very thought that there was this between them.  
This brief moment of coming together and sharing something that couldn't be quantified in words.  
A connection.  
... Jumin came.  
"Hyun, H...yun-!" He cried out.  
The heir curled into Zen, shuddering in the delicious sweeps of a torrid climax.  
His pulsing member squirting messily into the space between their stomachs as his hips bucked.  
\- " _Fuuuck..._ " Came the quivering moan.  


Zen was vaguely aware the man had dragged out an appropriately foul word.  
It was most likely the first time he'd ever heard it from him.  
That was his last thought before he gave one hard, desperate thrust, shattering inside Jumin with a loud cry.  
He pushed his face into the leather to stifle his broken sounds as Jumin clutched his quaking body, feeling the intimate pulse of that cock spilling inside him with each sporadic buck.

"Oh my god, Jumin, oh... my... god..."

The heir kissed at the whispers nudging into his lips, the heat of Zen's breaths against his chin.

The actor rode out the last of his fevered descent, emptying himself in a slow coast until the aching thrums began to fade and he was left with quivering muscles slick with sweat.

He eventually eased to a stop, burying deeply into Jumin before growing still.  
He listened to the slowing pants coming from the man below him, nuzzled and kissed at the hard beating pulse against Jumin's neck.

His own heart was thrashing, and his chest was constricting with emotion as their eyes met.

And, God help him...  
These feelings were scary and new.  
But maybe, just maybe... he loved Jumin.

\--

For a time, they both didn't move.

And then, Zen very gently pulled out of him, hearing the heir issue a small sound as they untangled.  
He slid in next to Jumin's warmth, completely spent from the endeavour.  


"Hyun..."  
The heir kissed at the man's dampened jaw.  
"I really like calling you that..." He whispered.

"... Yeah. Keep calling me that." Zen answered breathlessly with a smile.  
"I think I will."

He slipped an arm over Jumin's waist and buried his face in his hair.

"... I won't lie, Jumin. That was the best sex I've ever had." Came his muffled, groggy voice.  
"Was it." Jumin mused.  
"I'd like to try... Next time, you should be under." 

"...If that's what you want, sure. I accept."  
Zen gave the man a lazy look.

Jumin smiled and closed his eyes.

Zen watched the feathered tips of his thick eyelashes.  
Roaming the planes of that attractive face until his own eyelids grew heavy and their breaths dwindled into silence.

\---

5:04am

-  
-  
-

"Hyun." Came the firm call.  
"Mm..." The actor drew a deep breath and opened one heavy lid, roused from his sleep.  
He blearily focused with a squint on the pale, regal features of the heir in front of him.

"I have to pack."  
That handsome face pulled away.  
Zen watched him button up his dress shirt, his pants already on his hips.

"Oh."  
Something about the familiar, frigid tone forced the sleep from Zen's mind.  
The actor began to rise from the couch until the heir's hand held him down.

"Go back to sleep. I've sent for new clothes. There's a bathroom with a shower and a tub next to the lounge... You'll find everything you need there."  
"I -..." The actor started.

But Jumin's demeanor was different with the coming of dawn.  
He pulled away with that stoic mask back on and Zen closed his mouth.  
"I'll come back when I'm done. Stay."

"... Yes, Master. Woof woof." The actor testily muttered, sending the man a glance.  
Jumin said nothing and continued out the door.

Something in Zen's chest ached at that.  
The lack of response gnawed at him until the doubts surfaced.

The door fell shut with an echoing click and he was left with nothing but the silence, his thoughts and the ticking of the clock above the bar.

The actor stilled into the couch, suddenly feeling empty.  
No, he didn't want to think it.  
He didn't want to doubt what Jumin said.  
Sure, neither of them were exactly thinking straight a few hours ago, but still...

He reached for his phone and felt a foreign sensation brush along his thigh.  
It shuffled with movement and he distractedly looked down.

Jumin's thick coat was thrown over his waist.

For a moment, he lay unmoving.  
And then a horror set in, thinking of semen sticking to silken lining.  
_Oh no..._  
Zen pinched at the end of a folded collar and delicately lifted it, expecting to find a gruesome crusted mess.

His eyes widened, searching the inner lining.  
And then the crimson gaze dropped to his bare thigh before he flipped on his back.  
He blinked down at his stomach.

Wow.  
He was clean.

His eyebrows nudged in confusion as he sat up.  
And then he caught the tissue box on the table and the crumpled wads in the small bin beside it.  
For a light sleeper, he was more than a little surprised.  
The man must have been really careful not to wake him, or maybe he was just that exhausted after all.

Jumin, the corporate heir who didn't even clean his own room, had cleaned him.  
And the couch.

...  
Why did this make him ridiculously happy?  
Zen smirked.

He whisked up his phone and entered his passcode.  
After checking his inbox and finding the chatroom empty, he scrolled back to the main menu and accessed his contacts list.  
He thumbed through the alphabetical list until he found the girl's name.

And the guilt  _was_  there...  
But, he did say he'd check on her.

He dialed.

\---

6:45am

-  
-  
-

Zen was just walking out of the bathroom, shrugging the slate-gray Versechi jacket over his plaid red button down when he heard the door's tri-tone bleep and the lock unfastening.

 _Jumin._  


His heart immediately responded with a jarring squeeze that startled him.  
Enough that his gaze was visibly shaken as it met with the man as he came across the hall.  
... That was something new he'd have to deal with.

And then he faltered.  
Jumin's face projected his casual, undaunted stare.  
Cold, expressionless... and the jerk was back.

"Hey..." Zen hesitantly ventured, voice still slightly hoarse.

The executive was already in a navy blue suit, with a pinstripe business shirt and a black vest that hugged his waist in all the right ways, and-... No.

The actor gave himself a mental kick before his eyes could wander any lower.

"The outfit looks good on you." Jumin commented, walking up to him.  
"Well, thanks..." The actor unthinkingly said.  
"Anything looks good on me... But you really didn't have to get me new clothes, Jumin."

"And have you wear what you discarded last night? No..."  
The man distractedly adjusted his tie pin.  
"No, that won't do. You're a guest in this house." Came the sweeping tone, ending in a sigh.

Zen was used to that voice.  
He heard it enough.  
But why was it getting to him, the way the statement now seemed chased.  
The way Jumin sounded almost dismissive.

Zen was prepared for this, somehow.  
Only...  
It didn't really do much for the nagging twinge in his chest.

His scarlet eyes shifted and he looked away.  
"How... are you feeling?" He slowly asked.

"I'm fine."  
The subtle reply was significantly detached compared to the way the man spoke when he was in his arms.

"Jumin-" The man started.  
"We have time before I have to leave."  
The heir gave him a brief look before turning away.  
"Come. Have breakfast with me."

He watched the man saunter off.  
... Well, at least he was walking properly.

\---

7:23am

-  
-  
-

Jumin had a stack of papers an inch thick beside his plate.

They chewed in silence as the heir sharply flipped through stapled pages.  
His steely eyes scanning the graphs and charts.  
Every now and then, the actor would hear a dull click of tongue and the man would fold the corner of a sheet and move on.

Zen watched him.  
All the while, painstakingly chewing his way through the asparagus and the poached eggs.  
He was sure it tasted great, only he couldn't really enjoy at all right now.

The awkwardness was stifling.  
Hell, he had more relaxed mornings with his previous one-night stand women.

Jumin was an entirely different person.  
And yet, he was now more familiar.

After another minute of silence - with the heir having cast him fewer looks than the lingering maid who had just exited the room, the actor finally cleared his throat.

"So..." He started.

Jumin gave him a distracted look.  
"Yes?"  
Zen was looking at nothing but a hollow front.  
Those eyes, glassy and expressionless as they mirrored the light from the skyline window.

Was it  _that_  easy for Jumin to brush away everything that happened between them?  
He was beyond insulted to think he didn't leave an impression on the man at all.  
It was the worst fear of an actor, and it preyed on Zen's currently heightened insecurity.

The hurt glazed his eyes as he ejected a scoff, tightly pushing into the chair.  
"That's it? 'Yes'? ... You're not even looking at me."

"I'm sure you have many others to do that." Came the casual response.

Zen felt the statement slam into him like a kick to the gut.  
His heart wrenched and shredded and ejected up his throat.  
Everything in him went cold as he stared at the man in open shock.

Jumin didn't even spare him a glance to see it.

And then he felt it.  
The anger as it crept in.  
His defenses, outraged at the treatment, rising to protect his person.

Zen pushed his utensils down with a heavy clatter and gave the man a livid glare.  
"So what are you saying...?" Came the quiet growl.  
Jumin picked up on the hostility in that tone and finally dropped his paperwork.  
He reacted with nothing but a calm stare, meeting those hardened scarlet eyes.

"It's early... I prefer not to deal with antagonism." The executive slowly said.  
"I'm not antagonizing you... I just... I really can't believe you're so-... Ouuf...!"  
He exclaimed, tossing an arm and angling sideways, frustrated.

"You're really something, you know that? Honestly! You're just ... Y-you're so..."

How very easily he shattered, scrambling to keep his fragments together while the man in front of him effortlessly kept his composure.  
Zen's throat closed in on his next words, feeling helplessly childish and inadequate.

Something in Jumin's eyes minutely flickered as he watched him.  
And for a moment, the actor saw a glimpse of the man last night.  
... Then it was gone as the heir broke the stare and plucked a pen from his breast pocket.

"Let's discuss this when I get back. The security unit assigned to you will be downstairs in an hour. And you can leave."  
Zen watched him fasten his signature to one of the papers as he talked.

 _Leave... Just like that..._  
_He's sending me away._  
_Just... just like that...?_

"You're kidding, right?" The actor whispered, feeling his insides corrode.  
"Why would I be kidding? You're free to go."  
It was frigid, and it didn't hold an ounce of emotion.

And this was...  
_Bullshit._

Zen's legs had pushed the chair away, but he didn't even notice, because his pulse was beating into his ears and his vision was beginning to narrow.  
And it hurt.  
A lot.

He slammed his palms on the table and bore down on Jumin as the silverware tinkled.  
"After all that last night, and that's all you have to say? Just casting me aside like some piece of trash you clearly wanna get rid off?" His voice rose.

"Hyun..." The man suddenly looked too tired.  
"Sit down."

Jumin was acting like a parent who didn't have time to deal with an antsy child.  
Was that how he saw him?  
An immature child?  
Zen's temper shot up.

"No!" The actor brusquely declared, leaning in.  
"Fuck that. No. I need to know right now what exactly 'commitment' means to you, Jumin. What with how you seemed to make it sound so important last night! ... I need to know if you  _felt_  anything, hell I need to know if you still  _have_  a heart in there - or if last night was just some sporadic call of the flesh, and you were just... just... saying all those things... Making me think that we... we-" Zen stopped, the words snagging as he tensed with a shudder of breaths.

And he was afraid for the next moment.  
He suddenly wanted to just leave after all.  
Maybe he didn't want to hear what Jumin had to say.  
His mind struggled with a fight or flight response and his fear was beginning to win and take over.

This was too much right now.  
He needed to leave.  
Zen was about to grab his bag when Jumin's hand landed over his.

"... I can't work." The heir finally said.  
And it was clipped.  


Wow.  
Wow-wow-wow.  
The actor was reeling with disbelief.  
For a moment, he wanted to hurl every possible scathing insult at the man.  
And none of them came to mind.

They looked at each other in the silence.

And then Zen's insides were crumbling and he was suddenly drained beyond capacity.  
This wasn't worth it.  
This was frustrating.  
He could feel the burn climbing up his chest, pushing the heat behind his eyes-......  
No, no, no.

He wrenched his hand away from Jumin and shot him the last remnants of a seething glare as he took a step back.  
His crimson eyes held fast for another few seconds before his face finally faltered.  
"That's great." His voice shook and he nodded with a swallow.  
"Let me leave you to your work then. I'm so sorry for being an impediment to your perfect morni-"

"I mean I can't work properly when I'm  _thinking about you._ " The heir softly stressed.

Zen gave him a confused stare.  
The hurt was clearly obvious on his face now that he gave up holding it back.  
Jumin saw the changes and something in him reacted to that vulnerability.  
His demeanor wavered and he got up.

"There's a meeting right after I land. And it's a potentially good investment. These reports need my immediate attention and I can't afford to make mistakes. The company relies on it. And when I think of you, I can't think of anything else. My emotions, I... hate to say it. But I won't deny it. I can't  _control_  them. I can't concentrate..."

Zen's shoulders lowered, hearing the words.

"I wore the wrong watch and packed two of my ugliest neckties into my hand carry and I didn't even realize it until Assistant Kang gave me a call." Jumin disbelievingly uttered.  
As if it was the most disgraceful thing he'd ever done in his life.

And just like that, the weight in Zen significantly eased.  
"Jumin... I'm sure your ties aren't that bad." He gave a humorless laugh.  
"I don't make mistakes like this-" The man insisted curtly.  
"I avoid those neckties like a plague."  
He was truly conflicted about such a trivial matter.  
_Nothing to laugh about. He's a perfectionist._  Zen thought, donning a serious face.

Suddenly, Jumin reached for his hand.  
Zen swallowed, watching those fingers squeeze with emphasis.

"Understand me..." The heir's voice fell soft between them.

"All morning my head was filled with thoughts of you, of this relationship and what I feel. It's more than a simple distraction, Hyun. And when I think about last night, I can't properly function. I... don't know how to deal with this-" He paused, suddenly at a loss. "It's amazing. This has never... - I've never..."

Zen didn't think the man was ever so inarticulate.  
But something in him was melting away, listening to the heir's floundering explanation.

"I just need time to think. This is very new to me."  
Jumin finally sighed, regaining his usual impatient face.

Zen looked at him.  
"Alright, well... that clears things up." He provided with a slow nod.

"I don't want to become my father." The heir suddenly muttered.  
"What? ... You won't!" The actor's brow furrowed.

"But how can you know that?" Jumin's steely eyes flicked up to his.  
"You've never seen how he gets carried away because of his women. The foolish way he neglects the company when he's too occupied with romantic relationships to realize how much of the net profits he's throwing away for useless startups."

"Well, there's a balance for these things..." Zen slowly explained.  
Jumin gave a brief exhale.

"Which... you can also apply to the furball's 'philanthropic' business stuff." The actor mumbled before he could stop himself.

The heir side-eyed him.  
And then he straightened.

"Cat versus Human working capital and expenditure are two very different things. Simply studying the ballpark budget gives you an idea of-"  
"Yeah, yeah. Don't business talk me, I get it." Zen swiftly cut in, unconsciously flicking at his nose.

"If there is a balance you know of, then you can teach me... after I get back. Right now, I need my mind to work properly. And I have a flight." The heir sighed, finally releasing him.  
"Isn't it part of your grand master plan to convince me to come?" The actor raised his eyebrows.  
Jumin gave him a despondent look.

"No, Hyun."  
"Why not?"  
"Because you refused, and I realize I need to respect that decision."

Jumin was already slipping back into his seat and reaching for the next batch of papers.

"Jumin..."  
"Yes."

Zen dragged his chair beside the man's and sat.  
He tilted, trying to catch the heir's eye.  
"Jumin."  
The man finally raised his hesitant gaze and the actor's mouth lifted at the corner.  
"Thanks... for respecting my decision."

The man's crimson gaze was so focused on him, the heir had to look away.

"You're welcome. I have a Zetbox and a Greystation if you want to play some games before you leave."  
"No... that doesn't interest me as much as you do."  
The actor's languid tone playfully nipped at his composure.

 _No, no. This will not do._  
The heir suppressed the urge to rub at his temples.  
At this rate, he might end up pushing the man into the nearest room for another round.

"Maybe I should leave..." Zen murmured.  
"...Yes." Came the hoarse confirmation from the heir.

"- with you."

The heir sent the man a deliberate look while the report dangled between his fingers.  
Zen winked as he eased closer.  
The man had the gall to actually flirt with him in broad daylight.

"Don't say things like that. You're making it harder for me."  
Jumin's impatience was apparent.

...

" _Oh no!_ " Zen suddenly proclaimed in english, throwing the man off-guard.   
" _Sarreh!_ "

The heir's eyebrows bumped as he calmly lowered the papers.

" **Sorry.** " He slowly said, emphasizing the proper pronunciation.  
" _Sarreh-mnida! Sarry._ " The actor playfully responded with a grin.

" **... 'So'... 'rry'** " Jumin corrected again, angling to face him curiously.  
" _So pwery sarry. I will missin dizu reharsol._ " Zen comically droned as he nodded morosely.  
" **So ve-ry so-rry... I will 'be' miss-ing this rehearsal.** "  
" _Yes. So fffwery sarry... bwor missing reharshol!_ " The actor piped enthusiastically.  
" **And, you are happy?** " Jumin asked in english.  
" _No. I am Korean._ " Zen raised his eyebrows and poked his own nose.

Cute.  
Too cute.  
Jumin thumbed at his lip, pressing down on a ghost of a smile.

He turned to give the actor his full attention and Zen's face eagerly lit up.

" **Hello... my name is Zen.** " Jumin attempted after a pause.  
" _Hello... my name is Zen. Nice to meechu! ... Wau! So dizu iz Carlifornur._ " Came the exuberant declaration.

The actor feigned delight and extended a hand.  
Jumin shook it.

" **... Cali-for-nia.** " He corrected with a twitch of a smile.  
" _Carlifornur._ "  
"아니. (No.) **California.** "  
"알겠어요. (I understand.) _... Cauliflowra!_ " Zen declared.  
"무슨 얘기하는 거야. (What are you talking about.) **Are we going to a vegetable garden?** " Jumin asked between rich bursts of laughter.

" _... HAH? Vejabol?! No-no-no vejabol!_ " Zen talked over the heir's continued laughter. "- Jerk!"  
He pushed at the man's side.  


"I'll teach you more on the plane." Jumin breathlessly wiped at his eyes.  
He hadn't laughed like that in years.

\---

8:22am

-  
-  
-

Jaehee was shuffling through her tray of documents at the C&R International office when the newest intern entered.  
She distractedly looked up with a flick to her glasses.  


"... Oh, hello. Ms. Li!" The RFA member swiftly greeted, straightening with a tight smile.  
"Good morning, Ms. Kang!" The intern cheerfully said, raising the stack of folders in her hands.

"Driver Kim just dropped these off before he left. They're Mr. Han's documents for the 9:30am meeting with the general manager."

"Ah!" The brown-haired assistant brightened considerably, scooping the mound from the intern's hands.  
"Thank you so much. I was worried they wouldn't make it in time."

"I'm happy they did! ... You're welcome...-"  
The intern distractedly looked down.  
"And I think your phone-"  
"Yes, thank you. I see it." Came the chirpy, slightly breathless quip.

The intern gave a cringing smile, feeling sorry for the woman as she left.

Jaehee set the pile down with a thump and whisked her phone up, hitting the call-receive.  
"This is Kang Jaehee, Director Han Jumin's ass-."  
"Assistant Kang." Came the fluid tone from the receiver.  
"...Yes, Mr. Han?" She automatically answered, glancing down at the stack of documents.

"Since I'll be travelling, I'll leave Elizabeth the 3rd with you...-"

"Yes, Mr. Han..." She suppressed the sigh before continuing.  
"I've already spoken to your head of security."

"- For three days." Her boss' voice concluded.

Jaehee stiffened.  


"...S...Sorry?" She weakly asked.  
"And cancel my meetings for the next three days as well." Jumin's voice crackled with static.  
"If it's important we can do a video conference call. Please decide wisely on which ones will require immediate attenti-."  


Another blip of bad reception as she strained to listen.  


And then the voice had risen, slightly higher.  
"- There you go again, being too damn hard on her! Two days is fine, what's wrong with two days?! You'll kill her with work the longer you're away."  
The assistant's eyes widened, picking up on the all-too-familiar tone somewhere in the distance.

She must still be hearing the DVD from the night before.  
Yes, that must be it.  
It's stress.  
She rubbed at her temple.  
She'd read about this.  
Auditory hallucinations from too much anxiety and lack of sleep.  
Oh, this was bad.  


At least this wasn't another Meerkat episode and she wasn't fainting. Yet.

"Jaehee, two day-s is fine! I have sticky painter's tape I can give y-ou... I swear everythi-ng from lint to wolf hair sti-cks to it." Came the choppy holler in Zen's voice.  
"Mr. Han... I think there might be a problem with your reception." She stiffly said, trying to ignore it.

She really needed a vacation.  
She needed to file one right away.

"Is there?" Jumin lightly questioned.  
"Yes, I think so..." She weakly managed, folding into her chair.  
"If Hyun is anxious to get back, then I guess I have no choice. You can forget what I said." The heir's voice broke through clearly this time.  
Her hand gripped the phone closer to her ear.  
"Excuse me, Mr. Han. Did you say 'Hyun'?" She straightened with a lurch.  
"Yes..." Jumin's voice flattened.  
As if it were the most basic thing in the world.  
Maybe he misunderstood her.  
No, Mr. Han would never call Zen by his first name.

"- Obviously. I have work too. The director's gonna kill me if I miss rehearsals twice in a row when the show is next week." Came the very faint mumble that really sounded like Zen.  
"I'm sure we can work something out." Came Jumin's off-handed reply.

"How exactly? By replacing me? I'm the lead!!!" The actor's voice rose incredulously.  
"No, don't!" Jaehee unthinkingly blurted before her fingers pressed to her mouth.

"What, Assistant Kang? I didn't quite catch that." Jumin's voice blurred with fuzz.  
"I mean... Mr. Han. I... I am very confused as to what is going on." The assistant quickly stammered.

"We'll speak over the messenger. I think you're breaking up." The executive said.  
"... Then. Goodb-ye."  
"Later, Jae-h-ee!" The warmer voice enthusiastically quipped.

And then the line went dead.

Jaehee was left staring at the wall with her phone still clutched to her temple.  
Her eyebrows pushed together and she lowered her phone with a bleep.

... How many days could she manage to cut off her payroll.  
... The Philippines had lovely beaches, or so she was told.

... Probably.

... Thailand, Nepal, Calcutta?  
A pilgrimage wouldn't be too bad either.

Yes, she needed some spiritual cleansing.

\---

END  
\- Tangled Threads -

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> * Zen says "Sarreh-mnida!"  
> (A twisted attempt at merging the casual korean word for sorry 'Mianhamnida' with our english 'sorry'.)  
> * "Train to Father" is NOT an actual lullabye, nor would I want to ever hear something of a similar nature.  
> (Unless Han Jumin sings it.)  
> We have enough dark history behind our children's stories and nursery rhymes as it is! -_-;
> 
> Disclaimer: Any similarity to a real lullabye is purely coincidental.
> 
> \--
> 
> I was torn about leaving it at this ending.  
> And I was even thinking it would have an epilogue.
> 
> But I realize it's already insanely long.  
> Thus, our story closes.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> If you liked it, a kudos is appreciated.  
> And comments of course are always welcome.
> 
> Again, thank you for the support!
> 
> \- Second_Best


End file.
